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Frontispiece. 


















































ARIEL 

EDITION 


Groilus anb 
Cressiba 


b* 

TRllUUam Sbafcespeare 


COMPLETE AND UNABRIDGED ; THE TEXT CONFORMING TO THE 
LATEST 8CHOLARLY EDITIONS 


HCUtb Ullustrations 



mew HJorfe an& Xon&on 

(3. fi>. iputnam's Sons 


c I J 





THE KNICKERBOCKER PRE9S 
NEW YORK, U. 8. A. 


K) T 

^Olu 


l 


$ b 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


. Reproduced from the designs of Frank Howard. 


Andromache, Cassandra, and Priam endeavouring 
to persuade Hector not to go to the field 

Frontispieee 

Pandarus and Cressida watching the return of the 
Trojan chiefs from the field. Aineas, An- 
tenor, Hector, Paris, Helenus, and Troilus 

pass.25 

Cassandra raving.63 

Helen assisting to unarm Hector .... 91 

Troilus and Cressida.97 

The Grecian chiefs pass by Achilles and Patroclus 
with slight notice, when they are standing at 
the entrance of their tent. Ulysses follows, 
watching the effect of his scheme to mortify 

Achilles’ pride.109 

Thersites imitating Ajax ...... 121 

Cressida given up to the Greeks in exchange for 

Antenor.143 

The contest between Ajax and Hector . . . 153 

Achilles and Hector.161 

Troilus with Ulysses, watching—Diomedes and 
Cressida, with the sleeve given to her by 
Troilus.179 




iv 


If [lustrations 


Andromache, Cassandra, and Priam endeavouring 

to persuade Hector not to go to the field . 189 

Achilles arming on seeing the dead body of Pa- 

troclus ........ 199 

The battle—Troilus engaging Diomedes and Ajax— 

The body of Patroclus carried off to Achilles 
from Hector ....... 201 

The death of Hector ....... 207 



“ THE Famous Historic of Troylus and Cresseid, Ex¬ 
cellently expressing the beginning of their loues, with the 
conceited wooing of Pandarus Prince of Licia. IVrit- 
ten by William Shakespeare. LONDON. Imprinted by 
G. Eld for R. Bonian & H. Walley, and are to be sold 
at the spred Eagle in Paules Church-yeard ouer against 
the great Northdoore. 1609.” In a Quarto of 46 leaves. 

The Tragedy 0/ Troilus and Cressida occupies 
twenty-eight pages in the folio of 1623. 


DRAMATIS PERSONAE. 


. his sons. 


PRIAM, king of Troy. 

HECTOR, 

TROILUS, 

PARIS, 

DEIPHOBUS, 

HELENUS, 

MARGARELON, a bastard son of Priam. 

AENEAS, ) ^ . 

ANTENOR, I Trojan commanders. 

CALCH AS, a Trojan priest, taking part with the Greeks. 
PANDARUS, uncle to Cressida. 

AGAMEMNON, the Grecian general. 

MENELAUS, his brother. 

ACHILLES, 

AJAX, 

ULYSSES, 

NESTOR, 

DIOMEDES, 

PATROCLUS, 

THERSITES, a deformed and scurrilous Grecian. 
ALEXANDER, servant to Cressida. 

Servant to Troilus. 

Servant to Paris. 

Servant to Diomedes. 


* Grecian commanders. 


HELEN, wife to Menelaus. 

ANDROMACHE, wife to Hector. 

CASSANDRA, daughter to Priam; a prophetess. 
CRESSIDA, daughter to Calchas. 

Trojan and Greek Soldiers, and Attendants. 


SCENE : Troy , and the Grecian camp , 




TROILUS AND CRESSIDA. 


THE PROLOGUE. 

In Troy there lies the scene. From isles of 
Greece 

The princes orgulous, their high blood 
chafed, 

Have to the port of Athens sent their ships, 

Fraught with the ministers and instru¬ 
ments 

Of cruel war : sixty and nine, that wore 

Their crownets regal, from the Athenian 
bay 

Put forth toward Phrygia, and their vow is 
made 

To ransack Troy, within whose strong im¬ 
mures 

The ravish’d Helen, Menelaus’ queen, 

With wanton Paris sleeps; and that’s the 
quarrel. 

To Tenedos they come ; 


(3) 


4 


GroUus anD Cresetoa. 


And the deep-drawing barks do there dis¬ 
gorge 

Their warlike fraughtage : now on Dardan 
plains 

The fresh and yet unbruised Greeks do pitch 
Their brave pavilions : Priam’s six-gated 
city, 

Dardan, and Timbria, Helias, Chetas, Troien, 
And Antenorides, with massy staples, 

And corresponsive and fulfilling bolts, 

Sperr up the sons of Troy. 

Now expectation, tickling skittish spirits, 
On one and other side, Trojan and Greek, 
Sets all on hazard : and hither am I come 
A prologue arm’d, but not in confidence 
Of author’s pen or actor’s voice, but suited 
In like conditions as our argument, 

To tell you, fair beholders, that our play 
Leaps o’er the vaunt and firstlings of those 
broils, 

Beginning in the middle; starting thence 
away 

To what may be digested in a play. 

Like, or find fault; do as your pleasures are: 
Now good or bad, ’tis but the chance of war. 


ACT I. 


Scene I. Troy. Before Priam's palace. 

Enter PANDARUS and TROILUS. 

Tro. Call here my varlet; I ’ll unarm 
again : 

Why should I war without the walls of 
Troy, 

That find such cruel battle here within ? 

Each Trojan that is master of his heart, 

Let him to field ; Troilus, alas, hath none ! 

Pan. Will this gear ne’er be mended? 

Tro. The Greeks are strong and skilful 
to their strength, 

Fierce to their skill and to their fierceness 
valiant, 

But I am weaker than a woman’s tear, 

Tamer than sleep, fonder than ignorance, 

Less valiant than the virgin in the night, 

And skilless as unpractised infancy. 


6 


Grollus anD GressiDa. 


Pan. Well, I have told you enough of 
this : for my part, I ’ll not meddle nor make 
no farther. He that will have a cake out 
of the wheat must needs tarry the grinding. 
Tro. Have I not tarried ? 

Pan. Ay, the grinding ; but you must 
tarry the bolting. 

Tro. Have I not tarried ? 

Pan. Ay, the bolting ; but you must 
tarry the leavening. 

Tro. Still have I tarried. 

Pan. Ay, to the leavening; but here’s 
yet in the word ‘ hereafter,’ the kneading, 
the making of the cake, the heating of the 
oven, and the baking ; nay, you must stay 
the cooling too, or you may chance to burn 
your lips. 

Tro. Patience herself, what goddess e’er 
she be, 

Doth lesser blench at sufferance than I do. 
At Priam’s royal table do I sit ; 

And when fair Cressid comes into my 
thoughts,— 

So, traitor !—‘ When she comes ! ’—When is 
she thence ? 

Pan , Well, she looked yesternight fairer 


Bet t. Scene l 


7 


than ever I saw her look, or any woman 
else. 

Tro. I was about to tell thee :—when my 
heart, 

As wedged with a sigh, would rive in twain, 
Lest Hector or my father should perceive me, 
I have, as when the sun doth light a storm, 
Buried this sigh in wrinkle of a smile : 

But sorrow, that is couch’d in seeming glad¬ 
ness, 

Is like that mirth fate turns to sudden sad¬ 
ness. 

Pan. An her hair were not somewhat 
darker than Helen’s—well, go to—there 
were no more comparison between the 
women : but, for my part, she is my kins¬ 
woman ; I would not, as they term it, 
praise her: but I would somebody had 
heard her talk yesterday, as I did. I will 
not dispraise your sister Cassandra’s wit, 
but— 

Tro. O Pandarus ! I tell thee, Panda- 
rus,— 

When I do tell thee, there my hopes lie 
drown’d, 

Reply not in how many fathoms deep 


8 


Groflus anD Cresstoa, 


They lie indrench’d. I tell thee, I am mad 
In Cressid’s love : thou answer’st ‘ she is 
fair ; ’ 

Pour’st in the open ulcer of my heart 
Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her 
voice, 

Handiest in thy discourse, O, that her hand, 
In whose comparison all whites are ink 
Writing their own reproach, to whose soft 
seizure 

The cygnet’s down is harsh, and spirit of 
sense 

Hard as the palm of ploughman : this thou 
tell’st me, 

As true thou tell’st me, when I say I love 
her; 

But, saying thus, instead of oil and balm, 
Thou lay’st in every gash that love hath 
given me 

The knife that made it. 

Pan . I speak no more than truth. 

Tro. Thou dost not speak so much. 

Pan. Faith, I ’ll not meddle in’t. Let 
her be as she is : if she be fair, ’tis the better 
for her; an she be not, she has the mends 
in her own hands. 


Bet 1. Scene t 


9 


Tro. Good Pandarus, how now, Panda- 
rus! 

Pan. I have had my labour for my 
travail ; ill-thought on of her, and ill- 
thought on of you : gone between and be¬ 
tween, but small thanks for my labour. 

Tro. What, art thou angry, Pandarus ? 
what, with me ? 

Pan. Because she’s kin to me, therefore 
she’s not so fair as Helen : an she were not 
kin to me, she would be as fair on Friday 
as Helen is on Sunday. But what care I ? 
I care not an she were a black-a-moor ; ’tis 
all one to me. 

Tro. Say I she is not fair ? 

Pan. I do not care whether you do or 
no. She’s a fool to stay behind her father ; 
let her to the Greeks ; and so I ’ll tell her 
the next time I see her : for my part, I ’ll 
meddle nor make no more i’ the matter. 

Tro. Pandarus,— 

Pan. Not I. 

Tro. Sweet Pandarus,— 

Pan. Pray you, speak no more to me : I 
will leave all as I found it, and there an 
end, [exit. An alarum, 


io GroUus anD Cresstoa. 

Tro. Peace, you ungracious clamours! 
peace, rude sounds! 

Fools on both sides ! Helen must needs be 
fair, 

When with your blood you daily paint her 
thus. 

I cannot fight upon this argument; 

It is too starved a subject for my sword. 

But Pandarus—O gods, how do you plague 
me ! 

I cannot come to Cressid but by Pandar ; 

And he’s as tetchy to be woo’d to woo 

As she is stubborn-chaste against all suit. 

Tell me, Apollo, for thy Daphne’s love, 

What Cressid is, what Pandar, and what we. 

Her bed is India ; there she lies, a pearl: 

Between our Ilium and where she resides, 

Let it be call’d the wild and wandering flood, 

Ourself the merchant, and this sailing 
Pandar 

Our doubtful hope, our convoy and our 
bark. 

Alarum. Enter sENEAS. 

jffine. How now, Prince Troilus ! where¬ 
fore not afield ? 


Bet l. Scene 2 


n 


Tro. Because not there: this woman’s 
answer sorts, 

For womanish it is to be from thence. 

What news, iEneas, from the field to-day ? 

JEne. That Paris is returned home, and 
hurt. 

Tro. By whom, iEneas ? 

AtJne. Troilus, by Menelaus. 

Tro. Let Paris bleed: ’tis but a scar to 
scorn; 

Paris is gored with Menelaus’ horn. 

[ alarum. 

uEne. Hark, what good sport is out of 
town to-day ! 

Tro. Better at home, if * would I might ’ 
were ‘ may.’ 

But to the sport abroad : are you bound 
thither ? 

JEne. In all swift haste. 

Tro. Come, go we then together. 

[ exeunt. 

Scene II. The same. A street. 

Enter CRESSIDA and ALEXANDER her man. 

Cres. Who were those went by ? 

Alex. Queen Hecuba and Helen, 


i 2 t Grotlua anD GressiDa. 


Ores. And whither go they ? 

Alex. Up to the eastern tower, 

Whose height commands as subject all the 
vale, 

To see the battle. Hector, whose patience 
Is as a virtue fix’d, to-day was moved : 

He chid Andromache and struck his ar¬ 
mourer ; 

And, like as there were husbandry in war, 
Before the sun rose he was harness’d light, 
And to the field goes he; where every 
flower 

Did, as a prophet, weep what it foresaw 
In Hector’s wrath. 

Cres. What was his cause of anger ? 
Alex. The noise goes, this: there is 
among the Greeks 

A lord of Trojan blood, nephew to Hector ; 
They call him Ajax. 

Cres. Good ; and what of him ? 

Alex. They say he is a very man per se, 
And stands alone. 

Cres. So do all men, unless they are 
drunk, sick, or have no legs. 

Alex. This man, lady, hath robbed many 
beasts of their particular additions ; he is as 


Bet t. Scene 2 . 


13 


valiant as the lion, churlish as the bear, 
slow as the elephant: a man into whom 
nature hath so crowded humours that his 
valour is crushed into folly, his folly sauced 
with discretion: there is no man hath a 
virtue that he hath not a glimpse of, nor 
any man an attaint but he carries some stain 
of it: he is melancholy without cause and 
merry against the hair : he hath the joints 
of every thing; but every thing so out of 
joint that he is a gouty Briareus, many 
hands and no use, or purblind Argus, all 
eyes and no sight. 

Cres. But how should this man, that 
makes me smile, make Hector angry ? 

Alex. They say he yesterday coped Hec¬ 
tor in the battle and struck him down, the 
disdain and shame whereof hath ever since 
kept Hector fasting and waking. 

Enter PANDARUS. 

Cres. Who comes here ? 

Alex. Madam, your uncle Pandarus. 

Cres. Hector’s a gallant man. 

Alex. As may be in the world, lady. 

Pan. What’s that ? what’s that ? 


14 


Groilus anO GresstDa, 


Cres. Good morrow, uncle Pandarus. 

Pan. Good morrow, cousin Cressid : what 
do you talk of ? Good morrow, Alexander. 
How do you, cousin ? When were you at 
Ilium ? 

Cres. This morning, uncle. 

Pan. What were you talking of when I 
came? Was Hector armed and gone ere 
you came to Ilium? Helen was not up, 
was she ? 

Cres. Hector was gone ; but Helen was 
not up. 

Pan. E’en so : Hector was stirring early. 

Cres. That were we talking of, and of 
his anger. 

Pan. Was he angry ? 

Cres. So he says here. 

Pan. True, he was so ; I know the cause 
too ; he ’ll lay about him to-day, I can tell 
them that: and there’s Troilus will not 
come far behind him ; let them take heed of 
Troilus, I can tell them that too. 

Cres. What, is he angry too ? 

Pan. Who, Troilus? Troilus is the better 
man of the two. 

Cres. O Jupiter ! there’s no comparison. 


Bet 1, Scene 2 


15 


Pan. What, not between Troilus and 
Hector? Do you know a man if you see 
him? 

Cres. Ay, if I ever saw him before and 
knew him. 

Pan. Well, I say Troilus is Troilus. 

Cres. Then you say as I say ; for, I am 
sure, he is not Hector. 

Pan. No, nor Hector is not Troilus in 
some degrees. 

Cres. ’Tis just to each of them ; he is 
himself. 

Pan. Himself! Alas, poor Troilus ! I 
would he were. 

Cres. So he is. 

Pan. Condition, I had gone barefoot to 
India. 

Cres. He is not Hector. 

Pan. Himself ! no, he’s not himself: 
would a’ were himself ! Well, the gods are 
above; time must friend or end : well, 
Troilus, well, I would my heart were in her 
body ! No, Hector is not a better man than 
Troilus. 

Cres. Excuse me. 

Pan. He is elder. 


l6 


Grotlus anD GressiDa, 


Cres. Pardon me, pardon me. 

Pan. Th’ other’s not come to’t; you 
shall tell me another tale, when th’ other’s 
come to’t. Hector shall not have his wit 
this year. 

Cres. He shall not need it, if he have his 
own. 

Pan. Nor his qualities. 

Cres. No matter. 

Pan. Nor his beauty. 

Cres. ’Twould not become him; his 
own’s better. 

Pan. You have no judgement, niece: 
Helen herself swore th’ other day, that 
Troilus, for a brown favour—for so ’tis, I 
must confess,—not brown neither,— 

Cres. No, but brown. 

Pan. Faith, to say truth, brown and not 
brown. 

Cres. To say the truth, true and not 
true. 

Pan. She praised his complexion above 
Paris. 

Cres. Why, Paris hath colour enough. 

Pan. So he has. 

Cres. Then Troilus should have too 


Bet 1. Scene 2. 


17 


much : if she praised him above, his com¬ 
plexion is higher than his ; he having 
colour enough, and the other higher, is too 
flaming a praise for a good complexion. I 
had as lief Helen’s golden tongue had 
commended Troilus for a copper nose. 

Pan. I swear to you, I think Helen loves 
him better than Paris. 

Cres. Then she’s a merry Greek indeed. 

Pan. Nay, I am sure she does. She 
came to him th’ other day into the com¬ 
passed window,—and, you know, he has not 
past three or four hairs on his chin,— 

Cres. Indeed, a tapster’s arithmetic may 
soon bring his particulars therein to a total. 

Pan. Why, he is very young : and yet 
will he, within three pound, lift as much as 
his brother Hector. 

Cres. Is he so young a man and so old a 
lifter ? 

Pan. But, to prove to you that Helen 
loves him : she came and puts me her white 
hand to his cloven chin,— 

Cres. Juno have mercy I how came it 
cloven ? 

Pan. Why, you know, ’tis dimpled: I 


is 


tlroilus anD Greaaifca. 


think his smiling becomes him better than 
any man in all Phrygia. 

Ores. O, he smiles valiantly. 

Pan. Does he not ? 

Cres. O yes, an ’twere a cloud in autumn. 

Pan. Why, go to, then : but to prove to 
you that Helen loves Troilus,— 

Cres. Troilus will stand to the proof, if 
you ’ll prove it so. 

Pan. Troilus! why, he esteems her no 
more than I esteem an addle egg. 

Cres. If you love an addle egg as well as 
you love an idle head, you would eat chick¬ 
ens i’ the shell. 

Pan. I cannot choose but laugh, to think 
how she tickled his chin ; indeed, she has a 
marvellous white hand, I must needs con¬ 
fess,— 

Cres. Without the rack. 

Pan. And she takes upon her to spy a 
white hair on his chin. 

Cres. Alas, poor chin ! many a wart is 
richer. 

Pan. But there was such laughing 1 
Queen Hecuba laughed, that her eyes ran 
o’er. 


Bet t. Scene 2. 


19 


Cres. With mill-stones. 

Pan. And Cassandra laughed. 

Cres. But there was more temperate fire 
under the pot of her eyes : did her eyes run 
o’er too ? 

Pan. And Hector laughed. 

Cres. At what was all this laughing ? 

Pan. Marry, at the white hair that 
Helen spied on Troilus’ chin. 

Cres. An’t had been a green hair, I 
should have laughed too. 

Pan. They laughed not so much at the 
hair as at his pretty answer. 

Cres. What was his answer ? 

Pan. Quoth she, ‘ Here’s but two and 
fifty hairs on your chin, and one of them is 
white.’ 

Cres. This is her question. 

Pan. That’s true ; make no question of 
that. * Two and fifty hairs,’ quoth he, ‘ and 
one white : that white hair is my father, 
and all the rest are his sons.’ ‘Jupiter !’ 
quoth she, ‘ which of these hairs is Paris my 
husband?’ ‘The forked one,’ quoth he, 

‘ pluck’t out, and give it him.’ But there 
was such laughing ! and Helen so blushed, 


20 


UroUus anfc Gressi&a. 


and Paris so chafed, and all the rest so 
laughed, that it passed. 

Cres. So let it now ; for it has been a 
great while going by. 

Pan. Well, cousin, I told you a thing 
yesterday ; think on’t. 

Cres. So I do. 

Pan. I ’ll be sworn ’tis true ; he will weep 
you, an ’twere a man born in April. 

Cres. And I ’ll spring up in his tears, an 
’twere a nettle against May. 

[A retreat sounded. 

Pan. Hark I they are coining from the 
field : shall we stand up here, and see them 
as they pass toward Ilium ? good niece, do, 
sweet niece Cressida. 

Cres. At your pleasure. 

Pan. Here, here, here’s an excellent 
place ; here we may see most bravely: I ’ll 
tell you them all by their names as they 
pass by ; but mark Troilus above the rest. 

/ENEAS passes. 

Cres. Speak not so loud. 

Pan. That’s iEneas : is not that a brave 
man ? he’s one of the flowers of Troy, I 


Bet l. Scene 2 


21 


can tell you : but mark Troilus ; you shall 
see anon. 

Cres. Who’s that ? 

ANTENOR fusses. 

Pan. That’s An tenor : he has a shrewd 
wit, I can tell you ; and he’s a man good 
enough: he’s one o’ the soundest judge¬ 
ments in Troy, whosoever, and a proper 
man of person. When comes Troilus ? I ’ll 
show you Troilus anon : if he see me, you 
shall see him nod at me. 

Cres. Will he give you the nod ? 

Pan. You shall see. 

Cres. If he do, the rich shall have more. 

HECTOR passes. 

Pan. That’s Hector, that, that, look you, 
that; there’s a fellow ! Go thy way, Hec¬ 
tor ! There’s a brave man, niece. O brave 
Hector! Look how he looks ! there’s a 
countenance ! is’t not a brave man ? 

Cres. O, a brave man ! 

Pan. Is a’ not? it does a man’s heart 
good. Look you what hacks are on his 
hemlet! look you yonder, do you see ? look 


22 


Grotlus anO GresstDa, 


you there : there’s no jesting ; there ’s lay¬ 
ing on, take’t off who will, as they say : 
there be hacks ! 

Cres. Be those with swords ? 

Pan . Swords ! any thing, he cares not; 
an the devil come to him, it’s all one : by 
God’s lid, it does one’s heart good. Yonder 
comes Paris, yonder comes Paris. 

PARIS passes. 

Look ye yonder, niece; is’t not a gallant 
man too, is ’t not ? Why, this is brave now. 
Who said he came hurt home to-day ? he’s 
not hurt; why, this will do Helen’s heart 
good now, ha ! Would I could see Troilus 
now ! you shall see Troilus anon. 

Cres. Who’s that ? 

HELENUS passes. 

Pan. That’s Helenus : I marvel where 
Troilus is. That’s Helenus. I think he 
went not forth to-day. That’s Helenus. 

Cres. Can Helenus fight, uncle ? 

Pan. Helenus ! no ; yes, he ’ll fight in¬ 
different well. I marvel where Troilus is. 


Bet l. Scene 2. 


23 


Hark ! do you not hear the people cry 
‘ Troilus ’ ? Helenus is a priest. 

Cres. What sneaking fellow comes yon¬ 
der? 


TROILUS passes. 

Pan. Where ? yonder ? that’s Deiphobus. 
’Tis Troilus ! there’s a man, niece ! Hem ! 
Brave Troilus ! the prince of chivalry ! 

Cres. Peace, for shame, peace ! 

Pan. Mark him; note him. O brave 
Troilus ! Look well upon him, niece; look 
you how his sword is bloodied, and his 
helm more hacked than Hector’s ; and how 
he looks, and how he goes ! O admirable 
youth! he never saw three-and-twenty. 
Go thy way, Troilus, go thy way ! Had I a 
sister were a grace, or a daughter a goddess, 
he should take his choice. O admirable 
man ! Paris ? Paris is dirt to him ; and, I 
warrant, Helen, to change, would give an 
eye to boot. 

Common Soldiers pass. 

Cres. Here come more. 

Pan. Asses, fools, dolts! chaff and bran, 


24 


GroUus anD Gresstoa. 


chaff and bran! porridge after meat! I 
could live and die i’ the eyes of Troilus. 
Ne’er look, ne’er look ; the eagles are gone : 
crows and daws, crows and daws! I had 
rather be such a man as Troilus than 
Agamemnon and all Greece. 

Cres. There is among the Greeks Achilles,, 
a better man than Troilus. 

Pan. Achilles! a drayman, a porter, a 
very camel. 

Cres. Well, well. 

Pan. Well, well! Why, have you any 
discretion? have you any eyes? do you 
know what a man is ? Is not birth, beauty, 
good shape, discourse, manhood, learning, 
gentleness, virtue, youth, liberality, and 
such like, the spice and salt that season a 
man? 

Cres. Ay, a minced man : and then to 
be baked with no date in the pie, for then 
the man’s date is out. 

Pan. You are such a woman ! one knows 
not at what ward you lie. 

Cres. Upon my back, to defend my belly ; 
upon my wit, to defend my wiles ; upon my 
secrecy, to defend mine honesty ; my mask, 




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26 


Grollus anfc GreesiOa, 


to defend my beauty; and you, to defend 
all these : and at all these wards I lie, at a 
thousand watches. 

Pan. Say one of your watches. 

Cres. Nay, I ’ll watch you for that; and 
that’s one of the chiefest of them too : if I 
cannot ward what I would not have hit, 
I can watch you for telling how I took the 
blow ; unless it swell past hiding, and then 
it’s past watching. 

Pan. You are such another 1 


Enter Troilus's Boy. 


Boy. Sir, my lord would instantly speak 
with you. 

Pan. Where ? 

Boy. At your own house ; there he un¬ 
arms him. 

Pan. Good boy, tell him I come, [exit 
Boy.] I doubt he be hurt. Fare ye well, 
good niece. 

Cres. Adieu, uncle. 

Pan. I will be with you, niece, by and 

by. 

Cres. To bring, uncle ? 


Bet i. Scene 2 . 


27 


Pan. Ay, a token from Troilus. 

Cres. By the same token, you are a 
bawd. [exit Pandarus. 

Words, vows, gifts, tears, and love’s full 
sacrifice, 

He offers in another’s enterprise : 

But more in Troilus thousand fold I see 

Than in the glass of Pandar’s praise may 
be; 

Yet hold I off. Women are angels, wooing : 

Things won are done ; joy’s soul lies in the 
doing : 

That she beloved knows nought that knows 
not this: 

Men prize the thing ungain’d more than 
it is : 

That she was never yet that ever knew 

Love got so sweet as when desire did 
sue: 

Therefore this maxim out of love I teach : 

Achievement is command ; ungain’d, be¬ 
seech. 

Then though my heart’s content firm love 
doth bear, 

Nothing of that shall from mine eyes ap¬ 
pear. [exeunt. 


28 


Grollus anD Gressttm, 


Scene III. The Grecian camp. Before 
Agamemnon's tent. 

Sennet. Enter AGAMEMNON , NESTOR , 
ULYSSES , MENEL A US , with others. 

Agam. Princes, 

What grief hath set the jaundice on your 
cheeks ? 

The ample proposition that hope makes 
In all designs begun on earth below 
Fails in the promised largeness : checks and 
disasters 

Grow in the veins of actions highest rear’d, 
As knots, by the conflux of meeting sap, 
Infect the sound pine and divert his grain 
Tortive and errant from his course of 
growth. 

Nor, princes, is it matter new to us 
That we come short of our suppose so far 
That after seven years’ siege yet Troy walls 
stand ; 

Sith every action that hath gone before, 
Whereof we have record, trial did draw 
Bias and thwart, not answering the aim 
And that unbodied figure of the thought 


Bet t. Scene 3. 


29 


That gave’t surmised shape. Why then, 
you princes, 

Do you with cheeks abash’d behold our 
works, 

And call them shames ? which are indeed 
nought else 

But the protractive trials of great Jove 
To find persistive constancy in men : 

The fineness of which metal is not found 
In fortune’s love; for then the bold and 
coward, 

The wise and fool, the artist and unread, 
The hard and soft, seem all affined and kin : 
But in the wind and tempest of her frown, 
Distinction with a broad and powerful fan, 
Puffing at all, winnows the light away, 

And what hath mass or matter, by itself 
Lies rich in virtue and unmingled. 

Nest. With due observance of thy god¬ 
like seat, 

Great Agamemnon, Nestor shall apply 
Thy latest words. In the reproof of chance 
Lies the true proof of men : the sea being 
smooth, 

How many shallow bauble boats dare sail 
Upon her patient breast, making their way 


30 


GroUus attfc GresslDa, 


With those of nobler bulk ! 

But let the ruffian Boreas once enrage 
The gentle Thetis, and anon behold 
The strong-ribb’d bark through liquid 
mountains cut, 

Bounding between the two moist elements, 
Like Perseus’ horse: where’s then the 
saucy boat, 

Whose weak untimber’d sides but even now 
Co-rivall’d greatness ? either to harbour fled, 
Or made a toast for Neptune. Even so 
Doth valour’s show and valour’s worth di¬ 
vide 

In storms of fortune : for in her ray and 
brightness 

The herd hath more annoyance by the 
breese 

Than by the tiger ; but when the splitting 
wind 

Makes flexible the knees of knotted oaks, 
And flies fled under shade, why then the 
thing of courage 

As roused with rage with rage doth sympa¬ 
thize, 

And with an accent tuned in selfsame key 
Retorts to chiding fortune. 


Bet l. Scene 3. 


31 


Ulyss. Agamemnon, 

Thou great commander, nerve and bone of 
Greece, 

Heart of our numbers, soul and only spirit, 
In whom the tempers and the minds of all 
Should be shut up, hear what Ulysses speaks. 
Besides the applause and approbation 
The which, [to Agamemnon] most mighty 
for thy place and sway, 

[to Nestor] And thou most reverend for thy 
stretch’d-out life, 

I give to both your speeches, which were 
such 

As Agamemnon and the hand of Greece 
Should hold up high in brass, and such 
again 

As venerable Nestor, hatch’d in silver, 
Should with a bond of air, strong as the 
axletree 

On which heaven rides, knit all the Greek- 
ish ears 

To his experienced tongue, yet let it please 
both, 

Thou great, and wise, to hear Ulysses speak. 

Agam. Speak, Prince of Ithaca ; and 
be’t of less expect 


32 


tTroilua an& Creestoa. 


That matter needless, of importless burthen, 
Divide thy lips, than we are confident, 
When rank Thersites opes his mastic jaws, 
We shall hear music, wit and oracle. 

Ulyss. Troy, yet upon his basis, had been 
down, 

And the great Hector’s sword had lack’d a 
master, 

But for these instances. 

The specialty of rule hath been neglected : 
And, look, how many Grecian tents do stand 
Hollow upon this plain, so many hollow 
factions. 

When that the general is not like the hive 
To whom the foragers shall all repair, 

What honey is expected? Degree being 
vizarded, 

The unworthiest shows as fairly in the mask. 
The heavens themselves, the planets and 
this centre, 

Observe degree, priority and place, 
Insisture, course, proportion, season, form, 
Office and custom, in all line of order : 

And therefore is the glorious planet Sol 
In noble eminence enthroned and sphered 
Amidst the other ; whose medicinable eye 


Bet l. Scene 3. 


33 


Corrects the ill aspects of planets evil, 

And posts like the commandment of a king, 
Sans check to good and bad : but when the 
planets 

In evil mixture to disorder wander, 

What plagues and what portents, what 
mutiny, 

What raging of the sea, shaking of earth, 
Commotion in the winds, frights, changes, 
horrors, 

Divert and crack, rend and deracinate 
The unity and married calm of states 
Quite from their fixure! O, when degree 
is shaked, 

Which is the ladder to all high designs, 

The enterprise is sick! How could com¬ 
munities, 

Degrees in schools and brotherhoods in 
cities, 

Peaceful commerce from dividable shores, 
The primogenitive and due of birth, 
Prerogative of age, crowns, sceptres, laurels, 
But by degree, stand in authentic place ? 
Take but degree away, untune that string, 
And, hark, what discord follows! each 
thing meets 

3 


34 


Groilue anD GresstDa. 


In mere oppugnancy : the bounded waters 
Should lift their bosoms higher than the 
shores, 

And make a sop of all this solid globe : 
Strength should be lord of imbecility, 

And the rude son should strike his father 
dead : 

Force should be right; or rather, right and 
wrong, 

Between whose endless jar justice resides, 
Should lose their names, and so should jus¬ 
tice too. 

Then every thing includes itself in power, 
Power into will, will into appetite ; 

And appetite, an universal wolf, 

So doubly seconded with will and power, 
Must make perforce an universal prey, 

And last eat up himself. Great Agamem¬ 
non, 

This chaos, when degree is suffocate, 
Follows the choking. 

And this neglection of degree it is 
That by a pace goes backward, with a pur¬ 
pose 

It hath to climb. The general’s disdain’d 
By him one step below ; he by the next; 


Bet l. Scene 3, 


35 


That next by him beneath : so every step, 
Exampled by the first pace that is sick 
Of his superior, grows to an envious fever 
Of pale and bloodless emulation : 

And ’tis this fever that keeps Troy on foot, 
Not her own sinews. To end a tale of 
length, 

Troy in our weakness stands, not in her 
strength. 

Nest. Most wisely hath Ulysses here dis¬ 
cover’d 

The fever whereof all our power is sick. 

Agam. The nature of the sickness found, 
Ulysses, 

What is the remedy ? 

Ulyss. The great Achilles, whom opinion 
crowns 

The sinew and the forehand of our host, 
Having his ear full of his airy fame, 

Grows dainty of his worth, and in his tent 
Lies mocking our designs : with him, Pa- 
troclus, 

Upon a lazy bed, the livelong day 
Breaks scurril jests; 

And with ridiculous and awkward action, 
Which, slanderer, he imitation calls, 


36 


Groilus anO Creastoa, 


He pageants us. Sometime, great Aga¬ 
memnon, 

Thy topless deputation he puts on ; 

And, like a strutting player, whose conceit 

Lies in his hamstring, and doth think it 
rich 

To hear the wooden dialogue and sound 

’Twixt his stretch’d footing and the scaf- 
foldage, 

Such to-be-pitied and o’er-wrested seeming 

He acts thy greatness in: and when he 
speaks, 

’Tis like a chime a-mending ; with terms 
unsquared, 

Which, from the tongue of roaring Typhon 
dropp’d, 

Would seem hyperboles. At this fusty stuff, 

The large Achilles, on his press’d bed lolling, 

From his deep chest laughs out a loud ap¬ 
plause ; 

Cries ‘ Excellent! ’ ’tis Agamemnon just. 

Now play me Nestor ; hem, and stroke thy 
beard, 

As he being dress'd to some oration.’ 

That’s done ; as near as the extremest ends 

Of parallels, as like as Vulcan and his wife; 


Bet 1. Scene 3. 


37 


Yet god Achilles still cries ‘ Excellent! 

’Tis Nestor right. Now play him me, Pa- 
troclus, 

Arming to answer in a night alarm.’ 

And then, forsooth, the faint defects of age 
Must be the scene of mirth ; to cough and 
spit, 

And, with a palsy fumbling on his gorget, 
Shake in and out the rivet: and at this 
sport 

Sir Valour dies; cries 4 O, enough, Patro- 
clus; 

Or give me ribs of steel ! I shall split all 
In pleasure of my spleen.’ And in this 
fashion, 

All our abilities, gifts, natures, shapes, 
Severals and generals of grace exact, 
Achievements, plots, orders, preventions, 
Excitements to the field or speech for 
truce, 

Success or loss, what is or is not, serves 
As stuff for these two to make paradoxes. 

Nest. And in the imitation of these 
twain, 

Who, as Ulysses says, opinion crowns 
With an imperial voice, many are infect. 


38 


Croflus anfc Cresstoa. 


Ajax is grown self-will’d, and bears his 
head 

In such a rein, in full as proud a place 
As broad Achilles ; keeps his tent like him ; 
Makes factious feasts; rails on our state of 
war 

Bold as an oracle, and sets Thersites, 

A slave whose gall coins slanders like a 
mint, 

To match us in comparisons with dirt, 

To weaken and discredit our exposure, 

How rank soever rounded in with danger. 

Ulyss. They tax our policy and call it 
cowardice, 

Count wisdom as no member of the war, 
Forestall prescience, and esteem no act 
But that of hand : the still and mental parts 
That do contrive how many hands shall 
strike 

When fitness calls them on, and know by 
measure 

Of their observant toil the enemies’ 
weight, — 

Why, this hath not a finger’s dignity ; 

They call this bed-work, mappery, closet- 
war : 


Bet 1. Scene 3. 


39 


So that the ram that batters down the wall, 

For the great swing and rudeness of his 
poise, 

They place before his hand that made the 
engine, 

Or those that with the fineness of their souls 

By reason guide his execution. 

Nest. Let this be granted, and Achilles’ 
horse 

Makes many Thetis’ sons. [ tucket. 

Agam. What trumpet ? look, Menelaus. 

Men. From Troy. 

Enter /ENEAS. 

Agam. What would you ’fore our tent ? 

AZne. Is this great Agamemnon’s tent, I 
pray you ? 

Agam. Even this. 

JEne. May one that is a herald and a 
prince 

Do a fair message to his kingly ears ? 

Agam. With surety stronger than Achil¬ 
les’ arm 

’Fore all the Greekish heads, which with one 
voice 

Call Agamemnon head and general. 


40 


{Troilus anfc GressiDa. 


JEne. Fair leave and large security, 
How may 

A stranger to those most imperial looks 

Know them from eyes of other mortals ? 
Agam. How l 

JEne. Ay : 

I ask, that I might waken reverence, 

And bid the cheek be ready with a blush 

Modest as morning when she coldly eyes 

The youthful Phoebus : 

Which is that god in office, guiding men ? 

Which is the high and mighty Agamemnon? 
Agam. This Trojan scorns us; or the 
men of Troy 

Are ceremonious courtiers. 

AZne. Courtiers as free, as debonair, un¬ 
arm’d, 

As bending angels ; that’s their fame in 
peace : 

But when they would seem soldiers, they 
have galls, 

Good arms, strong joints, true swords ; and, 
Jove’s accord, 

Nothing so full of heart. But peace, 
JEneas, 

Peace, Trojan ; lay thy finger on thy lips ! 


Bet l. Scene 3. 


41 


The worthiness of praise distains his worth, 
If that the praised himself bring the praise 
forth: 

But what the repining enemy commends, 
That breath fame blows ; that praise, sole 
pure, transcends. 

Agam. Sir, you of Troy, call you your¬ 
self iEneas? 

JZne. Ay, Greek, that is my name. 

Agam. What’s your affair, I pray you ? 

JEne. Sir, pardon ; ’tis for Agamemnon’s 
ears. 

Agam. He hears nought privately that 
comes from Troy. 

JEne. Nor I from Troy come not to whis¬ 
per him : 

I bring a trumpet to awake his ear, 

To set his sense on the attentive bent, 

And then to speak. 

Agam. Speak frankly as the wind ; 

It is not Agamemnon’s sleeping hour : 

That thou shalt know, Trojan, he is awake, 
He tells thee so himself. 

JEne. Trumpet, blow loud, 

Send thy brass voice through all these lazy 
tents; 


42 


Grotlus anfc Greastoa. 


And every Greek of mettle, let him know, 
What Troy means fairly shall be spoke 
aloud. [Trumpet sounds. 

We have, great Agamemnon, here in Troy 
A prince call’d Hector—Priam is his father— 
Who in this dull and long-continued truce 
Is rusty grown : he bade me take a trumpet, 
And to this purpose speak. Kings, princes, 
lords ! 

If there be one among the fair’st of Greece, 
That holds his honour higher than his ease, 
That seeks his praise more than he fears his 
peril, 

That knows his valour and knows not his 
fear, 

That loves his mistress more than in confes¬ 
sion 

With truant vows to her own lips he loves, 
And dare avow her beauty and her worth 
In other arms than hers—to him this chal¬ 
lenge. 

Hector, in view of Trojans and of Greeks, 
Shall make it good, or do his best to do it, 
He hath a lady, wiser, fairer, truer, 

Than ever Greek did compass in his arms ; 
And will to-morrow with his trumpet call 


Bet 1. Scene 3, 


43 


Midway between your tents and walls of 
Troy, 

To rouse a Grecian that is true in love : 

If any come, Hector shall honour him ; 

If none, he ’ll say in Troy when he retires, 
The Grecian dames are sunburnt and not 
worth 

The splinter of a lance. Even so much. 

Agam. This shall be told our lovers, Lord 
ASneas; 

If none of them have soul in such a kind, 
We left them all at home : but we are sol¬ 
diers ; 

And may that soldier a mere recreant prove, 
That means not, hath not, or is not in love I 
If then one is, or hath, or means to be, 

That one meets Hector; if none else, I am 
he. 

Nest. Tell him of Nestor, one that was a 
man 

When Hector’s grandsire suck’d: he is old 
now; 

But if there be not in our Grecian host 
One noble man that hath one spark of fire, 
To answer for his love, tell him from me 
I ’ll hide my silver beard in a gold beaver, 


44 


Uroilus anD GressiDa. 


And in my vantbrace put this wither’d 
brawn, 

And meeting him will tell him that my 
lady 

Was fairer than his grandam, and as chaste 

As may be in the world : his youth in flood, 

I ’ll prove this truth with my three drops of 
blood. 

JEne. Now heavens forbid such scarcity 
of youth! 

Ulyss. Amen. 

Again. Fair Lord JEneas, let me touch 
your hand ; 

To our pavilion shall I lead you, sir. 

Achilles shall have word of this intent; 

So shall each lord of Greece, from tent to 
tent: 

Yourself shall feast with us before you go, 

And find the welcome of a noble foe. 

[exeunt all but Ulysses and Nestor. 

Ulyss. Nestor! 

Nest. What says Ulysses ? 

Ulyss. I have a young conception in my 
brain ; 

Be you my time to bring it to some shape. 

Nest, What is’t? 


Bet l. Scene 3. 


45 


XJlyss. This ’tis: 

Blunt wedges rive hard knots : the seeded 
pride 

That hath to this maturity blown up 
In rank Achilles must or now be cropp’d, 
Or, shedding, breed a nursery of like evil, 
To over bulk us all. 

Nest. Well, and how ? 

XJlyss. This challenge that the gallant 
Hector sends, 

However it is spread in general name, 
Relates in purpose only to Achilles. 

Nest. The purpose is perspicuous even as 
substance, 

Whose grossness little characters sum up : 
And, in the publication, make no strain, 
But that Achilles, were his brain as barren 
As banks of Libya,—though, Apollo knows, 
’Tis dry enough—will, with great speed of 
judgement, 

Ay, with celerity, find Hector’s purpose 
Pointing on him. 

XJlyss. And wake him to the answer, 
think you ? 

Nest. Yes, ’tis most meet: who may 
you else oppose, 


46 


Grotlus anO GresstDa, 


That can from Hector bring his honour off, 
If not Achilles ? Though’t be a sportful 
combat, 

Yet in this trial much opinion dwells ; 

For here the Trojans taste our dear’st 
repute 

With their finest palate : and trust to me, 
Ulysses, 

Our imputation shall be oddly poised 
In this wild action ; for the success, 
Although particular, shall give a scantling 
Of good or bad unto the general; 

And in such indexes, although small pricks 
To their subsequent volumes, there is seen 
The baby figure of the giant mass 
Of things to come at large. It is supposed 
He that meets Hector issues from our choice: 
And choice, being mutual act of all our 
souls, 

Makes merit her election, and doth boil, 

As ’twere from forth us all, a man distill’d 
Out of our virtues ; who miscarrying, 

What heart from hence receives the con¬ 
quering part, 

To steel a strong opinion to themselves ? 
Which entertain’d, limbs are his instruments, 


Bet l. Scene 3. 


47 


In no less working than are swords and bows 
Directive by the limbs. 

TJlyss. Give pardon to my speech ; 
Therefore ’tis meet Achilles meet not Hector. 
Let us, like merchants, show our foulest 
wares, 

And think, perchance, they ’ll sell; if not, 
The lustre of the better yet to show. 

Shall show the better. Do not consent 
That ever Hector and Achilles meet; 

For both our honour and our shame in this 
Are dogg’d with two strange followers. 

Nest. I see them not with my old eyes : 
what are they ? 

TJlyss. What glory our Achilles shares 
from Hector, 

Were he not proud, we all should share with 
him : 

But he already is too insolent; 

And we were better parch in Afric sun 
Than in the pride and salt scorn of his eyes, 
Should he ’scape Hector fair: if he were 
foil’d, 

Why then, we did our main opinion crush 
In taint of our best man. No, make a 
lottery ; 


4 8 


Groilua anD Gresatfca. 


And by device let blockish Ajax draw 
The sort to fight with Hector : among our¬ 
selves 

Give him allowance for the better man ; 

For that will physic the great Myrmidon 
Who broils in loud applause, and make him 
fall 

His crest that prouder than blue Iris bends. 
If the dull brainless Ajax come safe off, 

We ’ll dress him up in voices : if he fail, 

Yet go we under our opinion still 
That we have better men. But, hit or miss, 
Our project’s life this shape of sense assumes, 
Ajax employ’d plucks down Achilles’ 
plumes. 

Nest. Ulysses, 

Now I begin to relish thy advice ; 

And I will give a taste of it forthwith 
To Agamemnon : go we to him straight. 
Two curs shall tame each other : pride alone 
Must tarre the mastiffs on, as ’twere their 
bone. [exeunt. 


ACT II. 


Scene I. The Grecian camp. 

Enter AJAX and THERSITES . 

Ajax. Thersites! 

Ther. Agamemnon—how if he had boils 
—full, all over, generally ? 

Ajax. Thersites! 

Ther. And those boils did run ?—Say so, 
did not the general run then? were not 
that a botchy core ? 

Ajax. Dog! 

Ther. Then would come some matter 
from him ; I see none now. 

Ajax. Thou bitch-wolf’s son, canst thou 
not hear? Feel, then. [Strikes him. 

Ther. The plague of Greece upon thee, 
thou mongrel beef-witted lord ! 

Ajax. Speak then, thou vinewed’st 
leaven, speak : I will beat thee into hand¬ 
someness. 

4 


(49) 






50 


Grotlus ant) CresstOa, 


Ther. I shall sooner rail thee into wit 
and holiness : but, I think, thy horse will 
sooner con an oration than thou learn a 
prayer without book. Thou canst strike, 
canst thou? a red murrain o’ thy jade’s 
tricks ! 

Ajax. Toadstool, learn me the proclama¬ 
tion. 

Ther. Dost thou think I have no sense, 
thou strikest me thus ? 

Ajax. The proclamation ! 

Ther. Thou art proclaimed a fool, I 
think. 

Ajax. Do not, porpentine, do not; my 
fingers itch. 

Ther. I would thou didst itch from head 
to foot, and I had the scratching of thee ; I 
would make thee the loathsomest scab in 
Greece. When thou art forth in the incur¬ 
sions, thou strikest as slow as another. 

Ajax. I say, the proclamation ! 

Ther. Thou grumblest and railest every 
hour on Achilles, and thou art as full of envy 
at his greatness as Cerberus is at Proserpina’s 
beauty, ay, that thou barkest at him. 

Ajax. Mistress Tliersites ! 


Bet 2. Scene \. 


51 


Ther. Thou shouldst strike him. 

Ajax. Cobloaf! 

Ther. He would pun thee into shivers 
with his fist, as a sailor breaks a biscuit. 

Ajax. [Beating him] You whoreson cur ! 

Ther. Do, do. 

Ajax. Thou stool for a witch ! 

Ther. Ay, do, do ; thou sodden-witted 
lord ! thou hast no more brain than I have 
in mine elbows ; an assinego may tutor 
thee: thou scurvy-valiant ass ! thou art 
here but to thrash Trojans ; and thou art 
bought and sold among those of any wit, 
like a barbarian slave. If thou use to beat 
me, I will begin at thy heel and tell what 
thou art by inches, thou thing of no bowels, 
thou ! 

Ajax. You dog ! 

Ther. You scurvy lord ! 

Ajax. [Beating him] You cur! 

Ther. Mars his idiot! do, rudeness ; do, 
camel, do, do. 

Enter A CHILLES and PA TROCLUS. 

Achil. Why, how now, Ajax ! wherefore 
do ye thus ? 


52 


GroUua anD Gresstoa 


How now, Thersites ! what’s the matter, 
man? 

Ther. You see him there, do you ? 

Achil. Ay ; what’s the matter ? 

Ther. Nay, look upon him. 

Achil. So I do : what’s the matter ? 

Ther. Nay, but regard him well. 

Achil. ‘ Well! ’ why, so I do. 

Ther. But yet you look not well upon 
him ; for, whosoever you take him to be, 
he is Ajax. 

Achil. I know that, fool. 

Ther. Ay, but that fool knows not himself. 

Ajax. Therefore I beat thee. 

Ther. Lo, lo, lo, lo, what modicums of 
wit he utters ! his evasions have ears thus 
long. I have bobbed his brain more than 
he has beat my bones : I will buy nine spar¬ 
rows for a penny, and his pia mater is not 
worth the ninth part of a sparrow. This 
lord, Achilles, Ajax, who wears his wit in 
his belly and his guts in his head, I’ll tell 
you what I say of him. 

Achil. What ? 

Ther. I say, this Ajax— 

[Ajax offers to strike him. 


Bet 2. Scene t. 


53 


* Achil. Nay, good Ajax. 

Ther. Has.not so much, wit— 

Achil. Nay, I must hold you. 

Ther. As will stop the eye of Helen’s 
needle, for whom he comes to fight. 

Achil. Peace, fool! 

Ther. I would have peace and quietness, 
but the fool will not : he there : that he : 
look you there! 

Ajax. O thou damned cur ! I shall— 

Achil. Will you set your wit to a fool’s ? 

Ther. No, I warrant you ; for a fool’s 
will shame it. 

Patr. Good words, Thersites. 

Achil. What’s the quarrel ? 

Ajax. I bade the vile owl go learn me 
the tenour of the proclamation, and he rails 
upon me. 

Ther. I serve thee not. 

Ajax. Well, go to, go to. 

Ther. I serve here voluntary. 

Achil. Your last service was sufferance, 
’twas not voluntary ; no man is beaten vol¬ 
untary : Ajax was here the voluntary, and 
you as under an impress. 

Ther. E’en so ; a great deal of your wit 


54 


Grotlus anD CtesslDa. 


too lies in your sinews, or else there be 
liars. Hector shall have a great catch, if 
he knock out either of your brains : a’ were 
as good crack a fusty nut with no kernel. 

Achil. What, with me too, Thersites ? 

Ther. There’s Ulysses and old Nestor, 
whose wit was mouldy ere your grandsires 
had nails on their toes, yoke you like draught- 
oxen, and make you plough up the wars. 

Achil. What? what? 

Ther. Yes, good sooth : to, Achilles i to, 
Ajax ! to! 

Ajax. I shall cut out your tongue. 

Ther. ’Tis no matter; I shall speak as 
much as thou afterwards. 

Patr. No more words, Thersites ; peace ! 

Ther. I will hold my peace when Achilles’ 
brooch bids me, shall I ? 

Achil. There’s for you, Patroclus. 

Ther. I will see you hanged, like clot- 
poles, ere I come any more to your tents: 
I will keep where there is wit stirring, and 
leave the faction of fools. [exit. 

Patr. A good riddance. 

Achil. Marry, this, sir, is proclaim’d 
through all our host: 


Bet 2 . Scene 2 


55 


That Hector, by the fifth hour of the sun, 

Will with a trumpet ’twixt our tents and 
Troy / 

To-morrow morning call some knight to 
arms 

That hath a stomach, and such a one that 
dare 

Maintain—I know not what: ’tis trash. 
Farewell. 

Ajax. Farewell. Who shall answer him ? 

Achil. I know not; ’tis put to lottery ; 
otherwise 

He knew his man. 

Ajax. O, meaning you. I will go learn 
more of it. [ exeunt . 

Scene II. Troy. A room in Priam's palace. 

Enter PRIAM , HECTOR , TROILUS , PARIS , and 
HELENUS. 

Pri. After so many hours, lives, speeches 
spent, 

Thus once again says Nestor from the 
Greeks : 

‘ Deliver Helen, and all damage else, 

As honour, loss of time, travail, expense, 


56 


GroUus and Cressida, 


Wounds, friends, and what else dear that is 
consumed 

In hot digestion of this cormorant war, 

Shall be struck off.’ Hector, what say you 
to’t? 

Hect. Though no man lesser fears the 
Greeks than I 

As far as toucheth my particular, 

Yet, dread Priam, 

There is no lady of more softer bowels, 

More spongy to suck in the sense of fear, 

More ready to cry out ‘Who knows what 
follows ? ’ 

Than Hector is : the wound of peace is 
surety, 

Surety secure : but modest doubt is call’d 

The beacon of the wise, the tent that 
searches 

To the bottom of the worst. Let Helen go. 

Since the first sword was drawn about this 
question, 

Every tithe soul, ’mongst many thousand 
dismes, 

Hath been as dear as Helen ; I mean, of 
ours : 

If we have lost so many tenths of ours, 


Bet 2. Scene 2, 


57 


To guard a thing not ours, nor worth to us, 
Had it our name, the value of one ten, 
What merit’s in that reason which denies 
The yielding of her up ? 

Tro. Fie, fie, my brother ! 

Weigh you the worth and honour of a king, 
So great as our dread father, in a scale 
Of common ounces ? will you with counters 
sum 

The past proportion of his infinite ? 

And buckle in a waist most fathomless 
With spans and inches so diminutive 
As fears and reasons ? fie, for godly shame ! 

Hel. No marvel, though you bite so 
sharp at reasons, 

You are so empty of them. Should not our 
father 

Bear the great sway of his affairs with rea¬ 
sons, 

Because your speech hath none that tells 
him so ? 

Tro. You are for dreams and slumbers, 
brother priest; 

You fur your gloves with reason. Here 
are your reasons : 

You know an enemy intends you harm ; 


58 


Groilus anD GiesstDa. 


You know a sword employ’d is perilous, 

And reason flies the object of all harm : 
Who marvels then, when Helenus beholds 
A Grecian and his sword, if he do set 
The very wings of reason to his heels, 

And fly like chidden Mercury from Jove, 

Or like a star disorb’d ? Nay, if we talk of 
reason, 

Let ’s shut our gates, and sleep: manhood 
and honour 

Should have hare hearts, would they but 
fat their thoughts 

With this cramm’d reason : reason and re¬ 
spect 

Make livers pale and lustihood deject. 

Hect. Brother, she is not worth what she 
doth cost 
The holding. 

Tro. What’s aught, but as ’tis valued ? 

Hect. But value dwells not in particular 
will; 

It holds his estimate and dignity 
As well wherein ’tis precious of itself 
As in the prizer : ’tis mad idolatry 
To make the service greater than the god ; 
And the will dotes, that is attributive 


Bet 2. Scene 2 , 


59 


To what infectiously itself affects, 

Without some image of the affected merit. 

Tro. I take to-day a wife, and my 
election 

Is led on in the conduct of my will; 

My will enkindled by mine eyes and ears, 

Two traded pilots ’twixt the dangerous 
shores 

Of will and judgement: how may I avoid, 

Although my will distaste what it elected, 

The wife I chose ? there can be no evasion 

To blench from this, and to stand firm by 
honour. 

We turn not back the silks upon the mer¬ 
chant 

When we have soil’d them, nor the re¬ 
mainder viands 

We do not throw in unrespective sieve, 

Because we now are full. It was thought 
meet 

Paris should do some vengeance on the 
Greeks : 

Your breath of full consent bellied his 
sails; 

The seas and winds, old wranglers, took a 
truce, 


6 o 


Groilus anD Gresstoa. 


And did him service : he touch’d the ports 
desired ; 

And for an old aunt whom the Greeks held 
captive 

He brought a Grecian queen, whose youth 
and freshness 

Wrinkles Apollo’s and makes stale the 
morning. 

Why keep we her ? the Grecians keep our 
aunt: 

Is she worth keeping ? why, she is a pearl, 
Whose price hath launch’d above a thou¬ 
sand ships, 

And turn’d crown’d kings to merchants. 

If you ’ll avouch ’twas wisdom Paris went, 
As you must needs, for you all cried ‘ Go, go,’ 
If you’ll confess he brought home noble 
prize, 

As you must needs, for you all clapp’d your 
hands, 

And cried ‘ Inestimable ! ’ why do you now 
The issue of your proper wisdoms rate, 

And do a deed that Fortune never did, 
Beggar the estimation which you prized 
Richer than sea and land? O, theft most 
base, 


Bet 2. Scene 2. 


61 


That we have stol’n what we do fear to 
keep ! 

But thieves unworthy of a thing so stol’n, 

That in their country did them that dis¬ 
grace, 

We fear to warrant in our native place ! 

Cas. [within] Cry, Trojans, cry ! 

Pri. What noise ? what shriek is this ? 

Tro. ’Tis our mad sister, I do know her 
voice. 

Cas. [within] Cry, Trojans! 

Hect. It is Cassandra. 

Enter CASSANDRA , ravings with, her hair about 
her ears. 

Cas. Cry, Trojans, cry! lend me ten 
thousand eyes, 

And I will fill them with prophetic tears. 

Hect. Peace, sister, peace ! 

Cas. Virgins and boys, mid age and 
wrinkled eld, 

Soft infancy, that nothing canst but cry, 

Add to my clamours ! let us pay betimes 

A moiety of that mass of moan to come. 

Cry, Trojans, cry ! practise your eyes with 
tears ! 


62 


Grollus anfc Cresslfca, 


Troy must not be, nor goodly Ilion stand ; 
Our firebrand brother, Paris, burns us all. 
Cry, Trojans, cry ! a Helen and a woe : 

Cry, cry ! Troy burns, or else let Helen go. 

[exit. 

Hect. Now, youthful Troilus, do not 
these high strains 
Of divination in our sister work 
Some touches of remorse ? or is your blood 
So madly hot that no discourse of reason, 
Nor fear of bad success in a bad cause, 

Can qualify the same? 

Tro. Why, brother Hector, 

We may not think the justness of each act 
Such and no other than event doth form it; 
Nor once deject the courage of our minds, 
Because Cassandra’s mad : her brain-sick 
raptures 

Cannot distaste the goodness of a quarrel 
Which hath our several honours all en¬ 
gaged 

To make it gracious. For my private part, 
I am no more touch’d than all Priam’s 
sons: 

And Jove forbid there should be done 
amongst us 













































6 4 


Croitus anD CreseiDa* 


Such things as might offend the weakest 
spleen 

To fight for and maintain ! 

Par. Else might the world convince of 
levity 

As well my undertakings as your counsels : 
But I attest the gods, your full consent 
Gave wings to my propension, and cut off 
All fears attending on so dire a project. 

For what, alas, can these my single arms ? 
What propugnation is in one man’s valour, 
To stand the push and enmity of those 
This quarrel would excite ? Yet, I protest, 
Were I alone to pass the difficulties, 

And had as ample power as I have will, 
Paris should ne’er retract what he hath done, 
Nor faint in the pursuit. 

Pri. Paris, you speak 

Like one besotted on your sweet delights : 
You have the honey still, but these the gall; 
So to be valiant is no praise at all. 

Par. Sir, I propose not merely to my¬ 
self 

The pleasures such a beauty brings with it; 
But I would have the soil of her fair rape 
Wiped off in honourable keeping her. 


Bet 2. Scene 2. 


65 


What treason were it to the ransack’d 
queen, 

Disgrace to your great worths, and shame 
to me, 

Now to deliver her possession up 
On terms of base compulsion ! Can it be 
That so degenerate a strain as this 
Should once set footing in your generous 
bosoms ? 

There’s not the meanest spirit on our 
party, 

Without a heart to dare, or sword to draw, 
When Helen is defended, nor none so noble, 
Whose life were ill bestow’d, or death un¬ 
famed, 

Where Helen is the subject: then, I say, 
Well may we fight for her, whom, we know 
well, 

The world’s large spaces cannot parallel. 

Hect. Paris and Troilus, you have both 
said well; 

An d on the cause and question now in hand 
Have glozed, but superficially ; not much 
Unlike young men, whom Aristotle 
thought 

Unfit to hear moral philosophy. 

5 


66 


Groilus anD GressiDa. 


The reasons you allege do more conduce 
To the hot passion of distemper’d blood, 
Than to make up a free determination 
’Twixt right and wrong; for pleasure and 
revenge 

Have ears more deaf than adders to the 
voice 

Of any true decision. Nature craves 
All dues be render’d to their owners : now, 
What nearer debt in all humanity 
Than wife is to the husband ? If this law 
Of nature be corrupted through affection, 
And that great minds, of partial indulgence 
To their benumbed wills, resist the same, 
There is a law in each well-order’d nation 
To curb those raging appetites that are 
Most disobedient and refractory. 

If Helen then be wife to Sparta’s king, 

As it is known she is, these moral laws 
Of nature and of nations speak aloud 
To have her back return’d : thus to persist 
In doing wrong extenuates not wrong, 

But makes it much more heavy. Hector’s 
opinion 

Is this in way of truth : yet, ne’ertheless, 
My spritely brethren, I propend to you 


Bet 2 , Scene 2 . 


67 


In resolution to keep Helen still; 

For ’tis a. cause that hath no mean depend- 
ance 

Upon our joint and several dignities. 

Tro. Why, there you touch’d the life of 
our design : 

Were it not glory that we more affected 
Than the performance of our heaving 
spleens, 

I would not wish a drop of Trojan blood 
Spent more in her defence. But, worthy 
Hector, 

She is a theme of honour and renown ; 

A spur to valiant and magnanimous deeds, 
Whose present courage may beat down our 
foes, 

And fame in time to come canonize us : 

For, I presume, brave Hector would not 
lose 

So rich advantage of a promised glory 
As smiles upon the forehead of this action 
For the wide world’s revenue. 

Hect. I am yours, 

You valiant offspring of great Priamus. 

I have a roisting challenge sent amongst 
The dull and factious nobles of the Greeks, 


68 


ftroUus anO Cressifca. 


Will strike amazement to their drowsy 
spirits : 

I was advertised their great general slept, 
Whilst emulation in the army crept: 

This, I presume, will wake him. 

[exeunt. 

Scene III. The Grecian camp. Before the 
tent of Achilles. 

Enter THERSITES , solus. 

Ther. How now, Thersites ! what, lost in 
the labyrinth of thy fury! Shall the ele¬ 
phant Ajax carry it thus? he beats me, and 
I rail at him : O, worthy satisfaction ! would 
it were otherwise ; that I could beat him, 
whilst he railed at me. ’Sfoot, I ’ll learn 
to conjure and raise devils, but I ’ll see some 
issue of my spiteful execrations. Then 
there’s Achilles, a rare enginer. If Troy be 
not taken till these two undermine it, the 
walls will stand till they fall of themselves. 
O thou great thunder-darter of Olympus, 
forget that thou art Jove, the king of gods, 
and, Mercury, lose all the serpentine craft 
of thy caduceus, if ye take not that little 


Bet 2. Scene 3* 


69 


little less than little wit from them that 
they have ! which short-armed ignorance 
itself knows is so abundant scarce, it will 
not in circumvention deliver a fly from a 
spider, without drawing their massy irons 
and cutting the web. After this, the ven¬ 
geance on the whole camp ! or, rather, the 
Neapolitan bone-ache! for that, methinks, 
is the curse dependant on those that war for 
a placket. I have said my prayers; and 
devil Envy say amen. What, ho ! my Lord 
Achilles! 

Enter PA TROCLUS. 

Patr. Who’s there ? Thersites! Good 
Thersites, come in and rail. 

Ther. If I could ha’ remembered a gilt 
counterfeit, thou wouldst not have slipped 
out of my contemplation : but it is no mat¬ 
ter ; thyself upon thyself ! The common 
curse of mankind, folly and ignorance, be 
thine in great revenue! heaven bless thee 
from a tutor, and discipline come not near 
thee ! Let thy blood be thy direction till 
thy death! then if she that lays thee out 
says thou art a fair corse, I ’ll be sworn and 


70 Groilus anD Gresetoa. 

sworn upon’t she never shrouded any but 
lazars. Amen. Where’s Achilles ? 

Patr. What, art thou devout? wast thou 
in prayer? 

Ther. Ay ; the heavens hear me ! 

Patr. Amen. 

Enter A CHILLES. 

Achil. Who’s there ? 

Patr. Thersites, my lord. 

Achil. Where, where? Art thou come? 
why, my cheese, my digestion, why hast 
thou not served thyself in to my table so 
many meals? Come, what’s Agamemnon? 

Ther. Thy commander, Achilles : then 
tell me, Patroclus, what’s Achilles? 

Patr. Thy lord, Thersites : then tell me, 
I pray thee, what’s thyself ? 

Ther. Thy knower, Patroclus: then tell 
me, Patroclus, what art thou ? 

Patr. Thou mayst tell that knowest. 

Achil. O, tell, tell. 

Ther. I ’ll decline the whole question. 
Agamemnon commands Achilles ; Achilles 
is my lord ; I am Patroclus’ knower, and 
Patroclus is a fool. 


Bet 2. Scene 3 


71 


Patr. You rascal! 

Ther. Peace, fool! I have not done. 

Achil. He is a privileged man. Proceed, 
Thersites. 

Ther. Agamemnon is a fool; Achilles is 
a fool; Thersites is a fool, and, as aforesaid, 
Patroclus is a fool. 

Achil. Derive this ; come. 

Ther. Agamemnon is a fool to offer to 
command Achilles ; Achilles is a fool to 
be commanded of Agamemnon ; Thersites 
is a fool to serve such a fool; and Patroclus 
is a fool positive. 

Patr. Why am I a fool ? 

Ther. Make that demand of the prover. 
It suffices me thou art. Look you, who 
comes here ? 

Achil. Patroclus, I ’ll speak with nobody. 
Come in with me, Thersites. [exit. 

Ther. Here is such patchery, such jug¬ 
gling and such knavery ! all the argument is 
a cuckold and a whore ; a good quarrel to 
draw emulous factions and bleed to death 
upon. Now, the dry serpigo on the sub¬ 
ject ! and war and lechery confound all! 

[exit. 


72 


GroUus and CresstDa. 


Enter AGAMEMNON, ULYSSES, NESTOR, DIO- 
MEDES, and AJAX. 

Agam. Where is Achilles ? 

Patr. Within his tent; but ill-disposed, 
my lord. 

Agam. Let it be known to him that we 
are here. 

He shent our messengers ; and we lay by 
Our appertainments, visiting of him : 

Let him be told so, lest perchance he think 
We dare not move the question of our place, 
Or know not what we are. 

Patr. I shall say so to him. 

[exit. 

Vlyss. We saw him at the opening of 
his tent: 

He is not sick. 

Ajax. Yes, lion-sick, sick of proud heart: 
you may call it melancholy, if you will 
favour the man ; but, by my head, ’tis pride : 
but why, why ? let him show us the cause. 
A word, my lord. [Takes Agamemnon aside. 

Nest. What moves Ajax thus to bay at 
him? 

Ulyss. Achilles hath inveigled his fool 
from him, 


Bet 2. Scene 3. 


73 


Nest. Who, Thersites? 

Ulyss. He. 

Nest. Then will Ajax lack matter, if he 
have lost his argument. 

Ulyss. No, you see, he is his argument 
that has his argument, Achilles. 

Nest. All the better ; their fraction is 
more our wish than their faction : but it 
was a strong composure a fool could dis¬ 
unite. 

Ulyss. The amity that wisdom knits not, 
folly may easily untie. 

Re-enter PATROCLUS. 

Here comes Patroclus. 

Nest. No Achilles with him. 

Ulyss. The elephant hath joints, but 
none for courtesy: his legs are legs for 
necessity, not for flexure. 

Patr. Achilles bids me say, he is much 
sorry, 

If anything more than your sport and pleas¬ 
ure 

Did move your greatness and this noble 
state 

To call upon him ; he hopes it is no other 


74 


GroUus anD Cresstoa. 


But for your health and your digestion sake, 
An after-dinner’s breath. 

Agam. Hear you, Patroclus : 

We are too well acquainted with these 
answers: 

But his evasion, wing’d thus swift with 
scorn, 

Cannot outfly our apprehensions. 

Much attribute he hath, and much the 
reason 

Why we ascribe it to him : yet all his virtues, 
Not virtuously on his own part beheld, 

Do in our eyes begin to lose their gloss, 

Yea, like fair fruit in an unwholesome dish, 
Are like to rot untasted. Go and tell him, 
We come to speak with him ; and you shall 
not sin, 

If you do say we think him over-proud 
And under-honest; in self-assumption 
greater 

Than in the note of judgement; and wor¬ 
thier than himself 

Here tend the savage strangeness he puts on, 
Disguise the holy strength of their com¬ 
mand, 

And underwrite in an observing kind 


Bet 2. Scene 3. 


75 


His humorous predominance ; yea, watch 
His pettish lunes, his ebbs, his flows, as if 
The passage and whole carriage of this 
action 

Rode on his tide. Go tell him this, and add, 
That if he overhold his price so much, 

We’ll none of him, but let him, like an 
engine 

Not portable, lie under this report: 

‘ Bring action hither, this cannot go to war : 
A stirring dwarf we do allowance give 
Before a sleeping giant: ’ tell him so. 

Patr. I shall; and bring his answer 
presently. [exit. 

Agam. In second voice we’ll not be 
satisfied; 

We come to speak with him. Ulysses, 
enter you. [exit Ulysses. 

Ajax. What is he more than another ? 
Agam. No more than what he thinks he 
is. 

Ajax. Is he so much ? Do you not think 
he thinks himself a better man than I am ? 
Agam. No question. 

Ajax. Will you subscribe his thought and 
say he is ? 


76 


Groilus anO GressiDa. 


Agam. No, noble Ajax; you are as 
strong, as valiant, as wise, no less noble, 
much more gentle and altogether more 
tractable. 

Ajax. Why should a man be proud? 
How doth pride grow ? I know not what 
pride is. 

Agam. Your mind is the clearer, Ajax, 
and your virtues the fairer. He that is 
proud eats up himself: pride is his own 
glass, his own trumpet, his own chronicle ; 
and whatever praises itself but in the deed, 
devours the deed in the praise. 

Ajax. I do hate a proud man, as I hate 
the engendering of toads. 

Nest, [aside] Yet he loves himself : is ! t 
not strange ? 

Re-enter ULYSSES. 

Ulyss. Achilles will not to the field to* 
morrow. 

Agam. What’s his excuse ? 

Ulyss. He doth rely on none. 

But carries on the stream of his dispose. 
Without observance or respect of any, 

In will peculiar and in self-admission. 


Bet 2. Scene 3* 


77 


Agam. Why will he not, upon our fair 
request, 

Untent his person, and share the air with 
us? 

Ulyss. Things small as nothing, for 
request’s sake only 

He makes important: possess’d he is with 
greatness, 

And speaks not to himself but with a pride 

That quarrels at self-breath: imagined 
worth 

Holds in his blood such swoln and hot dis¬ 
course 

That ’twixt his mental and his active parts 

Kingdom’d Achilles in commotion rages 

And batters down himself : what should I 
say ? 

He is so plaguy proud that the death-tokens 
of it 

Cry ‘ No recovery.’ 

Agam. Let Ajax go to him. 

Dear lord, go you and greet him in his 
tent: 

’Tis said he holds you w r ell, and will be led 

At your request a little from himself. 

Ulyss. O Agamemnon, let it not be so ! 


78 


GroUus ant) GressfDa 


We’ll consecrate the steps that Ajax makes 
When they go from Achilles. Shall the 
proud lord 

That bastes his arrogance with his own 
seam, 

And never suffers matter of the world 
Enter his thoughts, save such as do revolve 
And ruminate himself, shall he be wor- 
shipp’d 

Of that we hold an idol more than he ? 

No, this thrice worthy and right valiant 
lord 

Must not so stale his palm, nobly acquired, 
Nor, by my will, assubjugate his merit, 

As amply titled as Achilles is, 

By going to Achilles : 

That were to enlard his fat-already pride, 
And add more coals to Cancer when he 
burns 

With entertaining great Hyperion. 

This lord goto him ! Jupiter forbid, 

And say in thunder ‘ Achilles go to him.’ 

Nest, [aside] O, this is well; he rubs the 
vein of him. 

Dio. [aside] And how his silence drinks 
up this applause ! 


Bet 2, Scene 3. 


79 


Ajax. If I go to him, with my armed fist 
I ’ll pash him o’er the face. 

Agam. O, no, you shall not go. 

Ajax. An a’ be proud with me, I’ll 
pheeze his pride: 

Let me go to him. 

Ulyss. Not for the worth that hangs 
upon our quarrel. 

Ajax. A paltry, insolent fellow ! 

Nest, [aside] How he describes himself ! 

Ajax. Can he not be sociable ? 

Ulyss. [aside] The raven chides black¬ 
ness. 

Ajax. I ’ll let his humours blood. 

Agam. [aside] He will be the physician 
that should be the patient. 

Ajax. An all men were o’ my mind,— 

Ulyss. [aside] Wit would be out of 
fashion. 

Ajax. A’ should not bear it so, a’ should 
eat swords first: shall pride carry it ? 

Nest, [aside] An ’twould, you ’Id carry 
half. 

Ulyss. [aside] A’ would have ten shares. 

Ajax. I will knead him, I ’ll make him 
supple. 


8 o 


Groilus anD Cresstoa. 


Nest, [aside] He’s not yet through 
warm: force him with praises : pour in, 
pour in ; his ambition is dry. 

Ulyss. [to Agamemnon] My lord, you 
feed too much on this dislike. 

Nest. Our noble general, do not do so. 

Dio. You must prepare to fight without 
Achilles. 

Ulyss. Why, ’tis this naming of him 
does him harm. 

Here is a man—but ’tis before his face ; 

I will be silent. 

Nest. Wherefore should you so ? 

He is not emulous, as Achilles is. 

Ulyss. Know the whole world, he is as 
valiant. 

Ajax. A whoreson dog, that shall palter 
thus with us ! Would he were a Trojan ! 

Nest. What a vice were it in Ajax 
now— • 

Ulyss. If he were proud,— 

Dio. Or covetous of praise,— 

Ulyss. Ay, or surly borne,— 

Dio. Or strange, or self-affected ! 

Ulyss. Thank the heavens, lord, thou art 
of sweet composure; 


Bet 2 , Scene 3. 


81 


Praise him that got thee, she that gave thee 
suck : 

Famed be thy tutor, and thy parts of nature 
Thrice-famed beyond, beyond all erudition : 
But he that disciplined thine arms to fight, 
Let Mars divide eternity in twain, 

And give him half : and, for thy vigour, 
Bull-bearing Milo his addition yield 
To sinewy Ajax. I will not praise thy 
wisdom, 

Which, like a bourn, a pale, a shore, confines 
Thy spacious and dilated parts: here’s 
Nestor, 

Instructed by the antiquary times, 

He must, he is, he cannot but be wise ; 

But pardon, father Nestor, were your days 
As green as Ajax’, and your brain so 
temper’d, 

You should not have the eminence of him, 
But be as Ajax. 

Ajax. Shall I call you father ? 

Nest. Ay, my good son. 

Dio. Be ruled by him, Lord Ajax. 

Vlyss. There is no tarrying here; the 
hart Achilles 

Keeps thicket. Please it our great general 
6 


82 


GroUus an£> Gresslba. 


To call together all his state of war : 

Fresh kings are come to Troy : to-morrow 

We must with all our main of power stand 
fast: 

And here’s a lord, come knights from east 
to west, 

And cull their flower, Ajax shall cope the 
best. 

Agam. Go we to council. Let Achilles 
sleep : 

Light boats sail swift, though greater hulks 
draw deep. [exeunt. 


ACT III. 


Scene I. Troy. A room in Priam's palace. 


Enter PANDARUS and a Servant. 


Pan. Friend, you, pray you, a word: do 
you not follow the young Lord Paris ? 

Serv. Ay, sir, when he goes before me. 

Pan. You depend upon him, I mean? 

Serv. Sir, I do depend upon the Lord. 

Pan. You depend upon a noble gentle¬ 
man ; I must needs praise him. 

Serv. The Lord be praised ! 

Pan. You know me, do you not ? 

Serv. Faith, sir, superficially. 

Pan. Friend, know me better; I am the 
Lord Pandarus. 

Serv. I hope I shall know your honour 
better. 

Pan. I do desire it. 

Serv. You are in the state of grace. 

(83) 


84 


GroUus anD Gressi&a. 


Pan. Grace ! not so, friend ; honour and 
lordship are my titles. [Music within .] 
What music is this? 

Serv. I do but partly know, sir: it is 
music in parts. 

Pan. Know you the musicians ? 

Serv. Wholly, sir. 

Pan. Who play they to ? 

Serv. To the hearers, sir. 

Pan. At whose pleasure, friend? 

Serv. At mine, sir, and theirs that love 
music. 

Pan. Command, I mean, friend. 

Serv. Who shall I command, sir ? 

Pan. Friend, we understand not one 
another : I am too courtly, and thou art too 
cunning. At whose request do these men 
play? 

Serv. That’s to’t, indeed, sir : marry, 
sir, at the request of Paris my lord, who is 
there in person; with him, the mortal 
Venus, the heart-blood of beauty, love’s in¬ 
visible soul. 

Pan. Who, my cousin Cressida? 

Serv. No, sir, Helen : could not you find 
out that by her attributes ? 


Bet 3. Scene l. 


85 


Pan. It should seem, fellow, that thou 
hast not seen the Lady Cressida. I come to 
speak with Paris from the Prince Troilus : I 
will make a complimental assault upon him, 
for my business seethes. 

Serv. Sodden business ! there’s a stewed 
phrase indeed ! 


Enter PARIS and HELEN y attended. 

Pan. Fair be to you, my lord, and to all 
this fair company ! fair desires, in all fair 
measure, fairly guide them! especially to 
you, fair queen ! fair thoughts be your fair 
pillow ! 

Helen. Dear lord, you are full of fair 
words. 

Pan. You speak your fair pleasure, 
sweet queen. Fair prince, here is good 
broken music. 

Par. You have broke it, cousin : and, by 
my life, you shall make it whole again; 
you shall piece it out with a piece of your 
performance. Nell, he is full of harmony. 

Pan. Truly, lady, no. 

Helen. O, sir,— 


86 


Groilus anD Gresst&a. 


Pan. Rude, in sooth ; in good sooth, very 
rude. 

Par. Well said, my lord ! well, you say 
so in fits. 

Pan. I have business to my lord, dear 
queen. My lord, will you vouchsafe me a 
word? 

Helen. Nay, this shall not hedge us out: 
we ’ll hear you sing, certainly. 

Pan. Well, sweet queen, you are pleas¬ 
ant with me. But, marry, thus, my lord : 
my dear lord, and most esteemed friend, 
your brother Troilus— 

Helen. My Lord Pandarus ; honey-sweet 
lord,— 

Pan. Go to, sweet queen, go to :—com¬ 
mends himself most affectionately to you— 

Helen. You shall not bob us out of our 
melody : if you do, our melancholy upon 
your head ! 

Pan. Sweet queen, sweet queen ; that’s 
a sweet queen, i’ faith. 

Helen. And to make a sweet lady sad is 
a sour offence. 

Pan. Nay, that shall not serve your 
turn; that shall it not, in truth, la. Nay, I 


Bet 3. Scene 1. 


87 


care not for such words ; no, no. And, 
my lord, he desires you, that if the king 
call for him at supper, you will make his 
excuse. 

Helen. My Lord Pandarus— 

Pan. What says my sweet queen, my 
very very sweet queen ? 

Par. What exploit’s in hand? where 
sups he to-night ? 

Helen. Nay, but, my lord,— 

Pan. What says my sweet queen ? My 
cousin will fall out with you. You must 
not know where he sups. 

Par. I ’ll lay my life, with my disposer 
Cressida. 

Pan. No, no, no such matter; you are 
wide : come, your disposer is sick. 

Par. Well, I ’ll make excuse. 

Pan. Ay, good my lord. Why should 
you say Cressida ? no, your poor disposer’s 
sick. 

Par. I spy. 

Pan. You spy! what do you spy ? 
Come, give me an instrument. Now, sweet 
queen. 

Helen. Why, this is kindly done. 


Groilus anD GressiDa. 


Pan. My niece is horribly in love with a 
thing you have, sweet queen. 

Helen. She shall have it, my lord, if it 
be not my lord Paris. 

Pan. He ! no, she’ll none of him ; they 
two are twain. 

Helen. Falling in, after falling out, may 
make them three. 

Pan. Come, come, I ’ll hear no more of 
this ; I ’ll sing you a song now. 

Helen. Ay, ay, prithee now. By my 
troth, sweet lord, thou hast a fine forehead. 

Pan. Ay, you may, you may. 

Helen. Let thy song be love: this love 
will undo us all. O Cupid, Cupid, Cupid ! 

Pan. Love ! ay, that it shall, i’ faith. 

Par. Ay, good now, love, love, nothing 
but love. 

Pan. In good troth, it begins so. 

[sings. 

Love, love, nothing but love, still more ! 
For, O, love’s bow 
Shoots buck and doe : 

The shaft confounds, 

Not that it wounds, 

But tickles still the sore. 

These lovers cry Oh ! oh ! they die: 


Bet 3 . Scene l. 89 

Yet that which seems the wound to kill, 
Doth turn oh ! oh ! to ha ! ha ! he ! 

So dying love lives still: 

Oh! oh ! a while, but ha ! ha ! ha ! 

Oh ! oh ! groans out for ha ! ha ! ha! 

Heigh-ho ! 

Helen. In love, i’ faith, to the very tip of 
the nose. 

Par. He eats nothing but doves, love, 
and that breeds hot blood, and hot blood 
begets hot thoughts, and hot thoughts beget 
hot deeds, and hot deeds is love. 

Pan. Is this the generation of love ? hot 
blood, hot thoughts and hot deeds ? Why, 
they are vipers: is love a generation of 
vipers ? Sweet lord, who’s afield to-day ? 

Par. Hector, Deiphobus, Helenus, Ante- 
nor, and all the gallantry of Troy : I would 
fain have armed to-day, but my Nell would 
not have it so. How chance my brother 
Troilus went not ? 

Helen. He hangs the lip at something: 
you know all, Lord Pandarus. 

Pan. Not I, honey-sweet queen. I long 
to hear how they sped to-day. You ’ll re- 
jnember your brother’s excuse ? 


go 


Grotlus attD Creest&a. 


Par. To a hair. 

Pan. Farewell, sweet queen. 

Helen. Commend me to your niece. 

Pan. I will, sweet queen. [exit. 

[A retreat sounded. 

Par. They ’re come from field : let us to 
Priam’s hall, 

To greet the warriors. Sweet Helen, I must 
woo you 

To help unarm our Hector: his stubborn 
buckles, 

With these your white enchanting fingers 
touch’d, 

Shall more obey than to the edge of steel 

Or force of Greekish sinews ; you shall do 
more 

Than all the island kings,—disarm great 
Hector. 

Helen. ’Twill make us proud to be his 
servant, Paris ; 

Yea, what he shall receive of us in duty 

Gives us more palm in beauty than we 
have, 

Yea, overshines ourself. 

Par. Sweet, above thought I love thee. 

[exeunt. 




























































































92 


Grollus anfc Gressfoa, 


Scene II. An orchard to Pandarus ’ house. 

Enter PANDARUS and TROILUS' Boy , meeting. 

Pan. How now ! where’s thy master ? 
at my cousin Cressida’s ? 

Boy. No, sir ; he stays for you to con¬ 
duct him thither. 

Pan. O, here he comes. 

Enter TROILUS. 

How now, how now! 

Tro. Sirrah, walk off. [exit Boy. 

Pan. Have you seen my cousin ? 

Tro. No, Pandarus : I stalk about her 
door, 

Like a strange soul upon the Stygian banks 
Staying for waftage. O, be thou my 
Charon, 

And give me swift transportance to those 
fields 

Where I may wallow in the lily-beds 
Proposed for the deserver! O gentle Pan¬ 
darus, 

From Cupid’s shoulder pluck his painted 
wings, 

And fly with me to Cressid ! 


Bet 3, Scene 2. 


93 


Pan. Walk here i’ the orchard, I ’ll bring 
her straight. [exit. 

Tro. I am giddy ; expectation whirls me 
round. 

The imaginary relish is so sweet 
That it enchants my sense : what will it be, 
When that the watery palates taste indeed 
Love’s thrice repured nectar? death, I fear 
me, 

Swounding destruction, or some joy too 
fine, 

Too subtle-potent, tuned too sharp in sweet¬ 
ness, 

For the capacity of my ruder powers : 

I fear it much, and I do fear besides 
That I shall lose distinction in my joys, 

As doth a battle, when they charge on 
heaps 

The enemy flying. 

Re-enter PANDARUS. 

Pan. She’s making her ready, she ’ll 
come straight: you must be witty now. 
She does so blush, and fetches her wind so 
short, as if she were frayed with a sprite : 
I ’ll fetch her. It is the prettiest villain: 


94 Groilus an£> Gressifca. 

she fetches her breath as short as a new- 
ta’en sparrow. [exit. 

Tro. Even such a passion doth embrace 
my bosom: 

My heart beats thicker than a feverous 
pulse; 

And all my powers do their bestowing lose, 
Like vassalage at unawares encountering 
The eye of majesty. 

Re-enter PANDARUS with CRESSIDA. 

Pan. Come, come, what need you blush ? 
shame’s a baby. Here she is now : swear 
the oaths now to her that you have sworn 
to me. What, are you gone again? you 
must be watched ere you be made tame, 
must you? Come your ways, come your 
ways; an you draw backward, we ’ll put 
you i’ the fills. Why do you not speak to 
her? Come, draw this curtain, and let’s 
see your picture. Alas the day, how loath 
you are to offend daylight! an ’twere dark, 
you ’Id close sooner. So, so ; rub on, and 
kiss the mistress. How now ! a kiss in fee- 
farm ! build there, carpenter; the air is 
sweet. Nay, you shall fight your hearts 


Bet 3. Scene 2. 


95 


out ere I part you. The falcon as the 
tercel, for all the ducks i’ the river : go 
to, go to. 

Tro. You have bereft me of all words, 
lady. 

Pan. Words pay no debts, give her 
deeds : but she ’ll bereave you o’ the deeds 
too, if she call your activity in question. 
What, billing again ? Here’s ‘ In witness 
whereof the parties interchangeably’— 
Come in, come in : I ’ll go get a fire. [exit. 

Cres. Will you walk in, my lord? 

Tro. O Cressida, how often have I 
wished me thus! 

Cres. Wished, my lord?—The gods 
grant—O my lord ! 

Tro. What should they grant ? what 
makes this pretty abruption? What too 
curious dreg espies my sweet lady in the 
fountain of our love ? 

Cres. More dregs than water, if my fears 
have eyes. 

Tro. Fears make devils of cherubins; 
they never see truly. 

Cres. Blind fear, that seeing reason 
leads, finds safer footing than blind reason 



g6 


tXroUus anD Cresstoa. 


stumbling without fear : to fear the worst 
oft cures the worse. 

Tro. O, let my lady apprehend no fear: 
in all Cupid’s pageant there is presented no 
monster. 

Cres. Nor nothing monstrous neither ? 

Tro. Nothing, but our undertakings ; 
when we vow to weep seas, live in fire, eat 
rocks, tame tigers; thinking it harder for 
our mistress to devise imposition enough 
than for us to undergo any difficulty im¬ 
posed. This is the monstruosity in love, 
lady, that the will is infinite and the execu¬ 
tion confined, that the desire is boundless 
and the act a slave to limit. 

Cres. They say, all lovers swear more 
performance than they are able, and yet 
reserve an ability that they never perform, 
vowing more than the perfection of ten, 
and discharging less than the tenth part of 
one. They that have the voice of lions and 
the act of hares, are they not monsters? 

Tro. Are there such ? such are not we : 
praise us as we are tasted, allow us as we 
prove; our head shall go bare till merit 
crown it: no perfection in reversion shall 



















































9 8 


Groilus anD Greasttm, 


have a praise in present: we will not name 
desert before his birth, and, being born, his 
addition shall be humble. Few words to 
fair faith : Troilus shall be such to Cressid 
as what envy can say worst shall be a mock 
for his truth, and what truth can speak 
truest, not truer than Troilus. 

Cres. Will you walk in, my lord? 


Re-enter PANDARUS. 


Pan. What, blushing still? have you 
not done talking yet ? 

Cres. Well, uncle, what folly I commit, 
I dedicate to you. 

Pan. I thank you for that: if my lord 
get a boy of you, you ’ll give him me. Be 
true to my lord : if he flinch, chide me for 
it. 

Tro. You know now your hostages; 
your uncle’s word and my firm faith. 

Pan. Nay, I ’ll give my word for her too: 
our kindred, though they be long ere they 
are wooed, they are constant being won : 
they are burs, I can tell you ; they ’ll stick 
where they are thrown. 


Bet 3. Scene 2♦ 


99 


Cres. Boldness comes to me now, and 
brings me heart. 

Prince Troilus, I have loved you night and 
day 

For many weary months. 

Tro. Why was my Cressid then so hard 
to win? 

Cres. Hard to seem won : but I was won, 
my lord, 

With the first glance that ever—pardon 
me; 

If I confess much, you will play the tyrant. 

I love you now ; but not, till now, so much 

But I might master it: in faith, I lie ; 

My thoughts were like unbridled children, 
grown 

Too headstrong for their mother. See, we 
fools ! 

Why have I blabb’d ? who shall be true to us, 

When we are so unsecret to ourselves ? 

But, though I loved you well, I woo’d you 
not; 

And yet, good faith, I wish’d myself a man, 

Or that we women had men’s privilege 

Of speaking first. Sweet, bid me hold my 
tongue ; 



100 


ftrotlus an£> Cresslfca. 


For in this rapture I shall surely speak 

The thing I shall repent. See, see, your 
silence, 

Cunning in dumbness, from my weakness 
draws 

My very soul of counsel! Stop my mouth. 

Tro. And shall, albeit sweet music issues 
thence. 

Pan. Pretty, i’ faith. 

Cres. My lord, I do beseech you, pardon 
me ; 

’Twas not my purpose thus to beg a kiss : 

I am ashamed ; O heavens ! what have I 
done ? 

For this time will I take my leave, my 
lord. 

Tro. Your leave, sweet Cressid? 

Pan. Leave ! an you take leave till to¬ 
morrow morning— 

Cres. Pray you, content you. 

Tro. What offends you, lady ? 

Cres. Sir, mine own company. 

Tro. You cannot shun yourself. 

Cres. Let me go and try : 

I have a kind of self resides with you, 

But an unkind self that itself will leave 


Bet 3. Scene 2. 


IOI 


To be another’s fool. I would be gone : 

Where is my wit ? I know not what I speak. 

Tro. Well know they what they speak 
that speak so wisely. 

Cres. Perchance, my lord, I show more 
craft than love, 

And fell so roundly to a large confession 

To angle for your thoughts: but you are 
wise; 

Or else you love not, for to be wise and love 

Exceeds man’s might; that dwells with 
gods above. 

Tro. O that I thought it could be in a 
woman— 

As, if it can, I will presume in you— 

To feed for aye her lamp and flames of love ; 

To keep her constancy in plight and youth, 

Outliving beauty’s outward, with a mind 

That doth renew swifter than blood decays ! 

Or that persuasion could but thus convince 
me, 

That my integrity and truth to you 

Might be affronted with the match and 
weight 

Of such a winnowed purity in love ; 

How were I then uplifted ! but, alas ! 


102 


Grotlus anD CresstDa. 


I am as true as truth’s simplicity, 

And simpler than the infancy of truth. 

Cres. In that I ’ll war with you. 

Tro. O virtuous fight, 

When right with right wars who shall be 
most right! 

True swains in love shall in the world to 
come 

Approve their truths by Troilus : when their 
rhymes, 

Full of protest, of oath and big compare, 
Want similes, truth tired with iteration, 

‘ As true as steel, as plantage to the moon, 
As sun to day, as turtle to her mate, 

As iron to adamant, as earth to the centre,’ 
Yet, after all comparisons of truth, 

As truth’s authentic author to be cited, 

‘ As true as Troilus’ shall crown up the verse 
And sanctify the numbers. 

Cres. Prophet may you 

be! 

If I be false, or swerve a hair from truth, 
When time is old and hath forgot itself, 
When waterdrops have worn the stones of 
Troy, 

And blind oblivion swallow’d cities up, 


Bet 3. Scene 2» 


103 


And mighty states characterless are grated 
To dusty nothing, yet let memory, 

From false to false, among false maids in 
love, 

Upbraid my falsehood ! when they’ve said 
‘ as false 

As air, as water, wind, or sandy earth, 

As fox to lamb, or wolf to heifer’s calf, 
Pard to the hind, or stepdame to her son,’ 
‘Yea,’ let them say, to stick the heart of 
falsehood, 

‘ As false as Cressid.’ 

Pan. Go to, a bargain made: seal it, seal 
it; I ’ll be the witness. Here I hold your 
hand ; here my cousin’s. If ever you prove 
false one to another, since I have taken such 
pains to bring you together, let all pitiful 
goers-between be called to the world’s end 
after my name ; call them all Pandars ; let 
all constant men be Troiluses, all false wo¬ 
men Cressids, and all brokers-between Pan¬ 
dars ! Say‘amen.’ 

Tro. Amen. 

Cres. Amen. 

Pan. Amen. Whereupon I will show 
you a chamber with a bed ; which bed, be- 


104 


GroUtie and Gressifca. 


cause it shall not speak of your pretty en¬ 
counters, press it to death : away ! 

[exeunt Tro. and Cres. 
And Cupid grant all tongue-tied maidens 
here 

Bed, chamber, Pandar to provide this gear! 

[exit. 


Scene III. The Grecian camp. 

Flourish. Enter AGAMEMNON , ULYSSES , DIO- 
MEDES y NESTOR , AJAXy MENELAUSy and 
CALCHAS. 

Cal. Now, princes, for the service I have 
done you, 

The advantage of the time prompts me 
aloud 

To call for recompense. Appear it to your 
mind 

That, through the sight I bear in things to 
love, 

I have abandon’d Troy, left my possession, 

Incurr’d a traitor’s name ; exposed myself, 

From certain and possess’d conveniences, 

To doubtful fortunes ; sequestering from me 
all 


Bet 3. Scene 3. 


105 


That time, acquaintance, custom and con¬ 
dition 

Made tame and most familiar to my nature, 
And here, to do you service, am become 
As new into the world, strange, unac¬ 
quainted : 

I do beseech you, as in way of taste, 

To give me now a little benefit, 

Out of those many register’d in promise, 
Which, you say, live to come in my behalf. 

Agam. What wouldst thou of us, Tro¬ 
jan ? make demand. 

Cal. You have a Trojan prisoner, call’d 
Antenor, 

Yesterday took : Troy holds him very dear. 
Oft have you—often have you thanks there¬ 
fore— 

Desired my Cressid in right great exchange, 
Whom Troy hath still denied: but this 
Antenor, 

I know, is such a wrest in their affairs, 

That their negotiations all must slack, 
Wanting his manage ; and they will almost 
Give us a prince of blood, a son of Priam, 

In change of him : let him be sent, great 
princes, 


io6 


Grollus anD Gresstoa. 


And he shall buy my daughter ; and her 
presence 

Shall quite strike off all service I have done, 

In most accepted pain. 

Agam. Let Diomedes bear him, 

And bring us Cressid hither : Calchas shall 
have 

What he requests of us. Good Diomed, 

Furnish you fairly for this interchange : 

Withal, bring word if Hector will to¬ 
morrow 

Be answer’d in his challenge: Ajax is 
ready. 

Dio. This shall I undertake ; and ’tis a 
burthen 

Which I am proud to bear. 

[exeunt Diomedes and Calchas. 

Enter ACHILLES and PA TROCLUS before their 
tent. 

Ulyss. Achilles stands i’ the entrance of 
his tent : 

Please it our general pass strangely by him, 

As if he were forgot; and, princes all, 

Lay negligent and loose regard upon him : 

I will come last. ’Tis like he ’ll question me 


Bet 3. Scene 3. 


107 


Why such unplausive eyes are bent on him : 

If so, I have derision medicinable, 

To use between your strangeness and his 
pride, 

Which his own will shall have desire to 
drink. 

It may do good: pride hath no other glass 

To show itself but pride, for supple knees 

Feed arrogance and are the proud man’s 
fees. 

Agam. We ’ll execute your purpose and 
put on 

A form of strangeness as we pass along ; 

So do each lord, and either greet him not 

Or else disdainfully, which shall shake him 
more 

Than if not look’d on. I will lead the way. 

Achil. What, comes the general to speak 
with me ? 

You know my mind ; I ’ll fight no more 
’gainst Troy. 

Agam. What says Achilles? would he 
aught with us ? 

Nest. Would you, my lord, aught with 
the general ? 

Achil. No, 


io8 


Grotlus an£> Gressifca. 


Nest. Nothing, my lord. 

Agam. The better. 

[exeunt Agamemnon and Nestor. 
Achil. Good day, good day. 

Men. How do you ? how do you ? [exit. 
Achil. What, does the cuckold scorn me ? 
Ajax. How now, Patroclus ! 

Achil. Good morrow, Ajax. 

Ajax. Ha ? 

Achil. Good morrow. 

Ajax. Ay, and good next day too. [exit. 
Achil. What mean these fellows ? 

Know they not Achilles ? 

Patr. They pass by strangely : they were 
used to bend, 

To send their smiles before them to Achilles, 
To come as humbly as they used to creep 
To holy altars. 

Achil. What, am I poor of late ? 

’Tis certain, greatness, once fall’n out with 
fortune, 

Must fall out with men too : what the 
declined is, 

He shall as soon read in the eyes of others 
As feel in his own fall: for men, like but¬ 
terflies, 























































no 


Uroilus anD GresstDa. 


Show not their mealy wings but to the 
summer; 

And not a man, for being simply man, 

Hath any honour, but honour for those 
honours 

That are without him, as place, riches, and 
favour, 

Prizes of accident as oft as merit: 

Which when they fall, as being slippery 
standers, 

The love that lean’d on them as slippery 
too, 

Do one pluck down another and together 

Die in the fall. But ’tis not so with me : 

Fortune and I are friends : I do enjoy 

At ample point all that I did possess, 

Save these men’s looks; who do, methinks, 
find out 

Something not worth in me such rich 
beholding 

As they have often given. Here is Ulysses : 

I ’ll interrupt his reading. 

How now, Ulysses! 

Ulyss. Now, great Thetis’son I 

Achil. What are you reading ? 

Ulyss. A strange fellow here 


Bet 3. Scene 3. 


hi 


Writes me : ‘ That man, how dearly ever 
parted, 

How much in having, or without or in, 
Cannot make boast to have that which he 
hath, 

Nor feels not what he owes, but by reflec¬ 
tion ; 

As when his virtues shining upon others 
Heat them, and they retort that heat again 
To the first giver.’ 

Achil. This is not strange, Ulysses. 

The beauty that is borne here in the face 
The bearer knows not, but commends itself 
To others’ eyes : nor doth the eye itself, 
That most pure spirit of sense, behold itself, 
Not going from itself ; but eye to eye op¬ 
posed 

Salutes each other with each other’s form : 
For speculation turns not to itself, 

Till it hath traveil’d and is mirror’d there 
Where it may see itself. This is not strange 
at all. 

Ulyss. I do not strain at the position— 

It is familiar—but at the author’s drift; 
Who in his circumstance expressly proves 
That no man is the lord of any thing, 


112 


Grotlus anD CresslOa. 


Though in and of him there be much con¬ 
sisting, 

Till he communicate his parts to others ; 

Nor doth he of himself know them for aught, 

Till he behold them formed in the applause 

Where they ’re extended ; who, like an arch, 
reverberates 

The voice again ; or, like a gate of steel 

Fronting the sun, receives and renders back 

His figure and his heat. I was much rapt 
in this; 

And apprehended here immediately 

The unknown Ajax. 

Heavens, what a man is there! a very 
horse; 

That has he knows not what. Nature, what 
things there are, 

Most abject in regard and dear in use ! 

What things again most dear in the esteem 

And poor in worth! Now shall we see to¬ 
morrow— 

An act that very chance doth throw upon 
him— 

Ajax renown’d. O heavens, what some men 
do, 

While some men leave to do ! 


Bet 3, Scene 3. 


113 

How some men creep in skittish fortune’s 
hall, 

Whiles others play the idiots in her eyes I 
How one man eats into another’s pride, 
While pride is fasting in his wantonness ! 
To see these Grecian lords! Why, even 
already 

They clap the lubber Ajax on the shoulder, 
As if his foot were on brave Hector’s breast 
And great Troy shrieking. 

Achil. I do believe it; for they pass’d 
by me 

As misers do by beggars, neither gave to me 
Good word nor look : what, are my deeds 
forgot ? 

Ulyss. Time hath, my lord, a wallet at 
his back 

Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, 

A great-sized monster of ingratitudes : 
Those scraps are good deeds past, which are 
devour’d 

As fast as they are made, forgot as soon 
As done : perseverance, dear my lord, 

Keeps honour bright: to have done, is to 
hang 

Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail 
8 


GroUus an£> Gresstoa. 


114 

In monumental mockery. Take the instant 
way ; 

For honour travels in a strait so narrow, 
Where one but goes abreast: keep then the 
path ; 

For emulation hath a thousand sons 
That one by one pursue : if you give way, 
Or hedge aside from the direct forthright, 
Like to an enter’d tide they all rush by 
And leave you hindmost: 

Or, like a gallant horse fall’n in first rank, 
Lie there for pavement to the abject rear, 
O’er-run and trampled on : then what they 
do in present, 

Though less than yours in past, must o’ertop 
yours ; 

For time is like a fashionable host 
That slightly shakes his parting guest by the 
hand, 

And with his arms outstretch’d, as he would 

fly, 

Grasps in the comer : welcome ever smiles, 
And farewell goes out sighing. O, let not 
virtue seek 

Remuneration for the thing it was ; 

For beauty, wit, 


Bet 3. Scene 3, 


115 

High birth, vigour of bone, desert in service, 
Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all 
To envious and calumniating time. 

One touch of nature makes the whole world 
kin ; 

That all with one consent praise new-born 
gawds, 

Though they are made and moulded of 
things past, 

And give to dust that is a little gilt 
More laud than gilt o’er-dusted. 

The present eye praises the present object: 
Then marvel not, thou great and complete 
man, 

That all the Greeks begin to worship Ajax; 
Since things in motion sooner catch the eye 
Than what not stirs. The cry went once on 
thee, 

And still it might, and yet it may again, 

If thou wouldst not entomb thyself alive 
And case thy reputation in thy tent, 

Whose glorious deeds, but in these fields of 
late, 

Made emulous missions ’mongst the gods 
themselves, 

And drave great Mars to faction. 


Ii6 


Grollus ant) GresalDa. 


Achil. Of this my privacy 
I have strong reasons. 

Ulyss. But ’gainst your privacy 

The reasons are more potent and heroical: 
’Tis known, Achilles, that you are in love 
With one of Priam’s daughters. 

Achil. Ha ! known ? 

Ulyss. Is that a wonder ? 

The providence that’s in a watchful state 
Knows almost every grain of Plutus’ gold, 
Finds bottom in the uncomprehensive 
deeps, 

Keeps place with thought, and almost like 
the gods 

Does thoughts unveil in their dumb cradles. 
There is a mystery, with whom relation 
Durst never meddle, in the soul of state ; 
Which hath an operation more divine 
Than breath or pen can give expressure to : 
All the commerce that you have had with 
Troy 

As perfectly is ours as yours, my lord ; 

And better would it fit Achilles much 
To throw down Hector than Polyxena : 

But it must grieve young Pyrrhus now at 
home, 


Bet 3. Scene 3 


117 

When fame shall in our islands sound her 
trump ; 

And all the Greekish girls shall tripping sing 

‘Great Hector’s sister did Achilles win, 

But our great Ajax bravely beat down him.’ 

Farewell, my lord : I as your lover speak ; 

The fool slides o’er the ice that you should 
break. [exit. 

Patr. To this effect, Achilles, have I 
moved you : 

A woman impudent and mannish grown 

Is not more loathed than an effeminate man 

In time of action. I stand condemn’d for 
this; 

They think my little stomach to the war 

And your great love to me restrains you 
thus : 

Sweet, rouse yourself, and the weak wanton 
Cupid 

Shall from your neck unloose his amorous 
fold, 

And, like a dew-drop from the lion’s mane, 

Be shook to air. 

Achil. Shall Ajax fight with Hector? 

Patr. Ay, and perhaps receive much 
honour by him. 



n8 


Grotlus anO Gresstoa, 


Achil. I see my reputation is at stake ; 
My fame is shrewdly gored. 

Pair. O, then, beware; 

Those wounds heal ill that men do give 
themselves: 

Omission to do what is necessary 
Seals a commission to a blank of danger ; 
And danger, like an ague, subtly taints 
Even then when we sit idly in the sun. 
Achil. Go call Thersites hither, sweet 
Patroclus: 

I ’ll send the fool to Ajax, and desire him 
To invite the Trojan lords after the combat 
To see us here unarm’d : I have a woman’s 
longing, 

An appetite that I am sick withal, 

To see great Hector in his weeds of peace ; 
To talk with him, and to behold his visage, 
Even to my full of view.—A labour saved! 

Enter THERSITES. 

Ther. A wonder! 

Achil. What? 

Ther. Ajax goes up and down the field, 
asking for himself. 

Achil. How so ? 


Bet 3* Scene 3, 


119 

Ther. He must fight singly to-morrow 
with Hector, and is so prophetically proud 
of an heroical cudgelling that he raves in 
saying nothing. 

Achil. How can that be ? 

Ther. Why, a’ stalks up and down like a 
peacock,—a stride and a stand : ruminates 
like an hostess that hath no arithmetic but 
her brain to set down her reckoning : bites 
his lip with a politic regard, as who should 
say ‘ There were wit in this head, an ’twould 
out: ’ and so there is ; but it lies as coldly in 
him as fire in a flint, which will not show 
without knocking. The man’s undone for 
ever ; for if Hector break not his neck i’ 
the combat, he ’ll break’t himself in vain¬ 
glory. He knows not me : I said ‘ Good 
morrow, Ajax ; ’ and he replies ‘ Thanks, 
Agamemnon.’ What think you of this 
man, that takes me for the general ? He’s 
grown a very land-fish, languageless, a 
monster. A plague of opinion ! a man may 
wear it on both sides, like a leather jerkin. 

Achil. Thou must be my ambassador to 
him, Thersites. 

Ther. Who, I? why, he’ll answer no- 


120 


Grotlus anD GressiDa, 


body ; he professes not answering : speak¬ 
ing is for beggars ; he wears his tongue in’s 
arms. I will put on his presence : let Pa- 
troclus make demands to me, you shall see 
the pageant of Ajax. 

Achil. To him, Patroclus: tell him I 
humbly desire the valiant Ajax to invite the 
most valorous Hector to come unarmed to 
my tent, and to procure safe-conduct for his 
person of the magnanimous and most illus¬ 
trious six-or-seven-times-honoured captain- 
general of the Grecian army, Agamemnon, 
et cetera. Do this. 

Patr. Jove bless great Ajax ! 

Ther. Hum! 

Patr. I come from the worthy Achilles,— 

Ther. Ha! 

Patr. Who most humbly desires you to 
invite Hector to his tent,— 

Ther. Hum ! 

Patr. And to procure safe-conduct from 
Agamemnon. 

Ther. Agamemnon ? 

Patr. Ay, my lord. 

Ther. Ha! 

Patr. What say you to’t ? 














































122 


Groilus aitD CressiDa 


Ther. God be wi’ you, with all my heart. 

Patr. Your answer, sir. 

Ther. If to-morrow be a fair day, by 
eleven of the clock it will go one way or 
other: howsoever, he shall pay for me ere 
he has me. 

Patr. Your answer, sir. 

Ther. Fare you well, with all my heart. 

Achil. Why, but he is not in this tune, is he ? 

Ther. No, but he’s out o’ tune thus. 
What music will be in him when Hector has 
knocked out his brains, I know not; but, I 
am sure, none, unless the fiddler Apollo get 
his sinews to make catlings on. 

Achil. Come, thou shalt bear a letter to 
him straight. 

Ther. Let me bear another to his horse; 
for that’s the more capable creature. 

Achil. My mind is troubled like a foun¬ 
tain stirr’d, 

And I myself see not the bottom of it. 

[exeunt Achilles and Patroclus. 

Ther. Would the fountain of your mind 
were clear again, that I might water an ass 
at it! I had rather be a tick in a sheep than 
such a valiant ignorance. [exit. 


Scene I. Troy. A street. 


Enter, at one side , /ENE A S, and Servant with a 
torch: at the other, PARIS, D El PH O BUS, AN- 
TENOR, DIOMEDES, and others , with torches. 

Par. See, ho ! who is that there ? 

Dei. It is the Lord HCneas. 

JEne. Is the prince there in person ? 

Had I so good occasion to lie long 
As you, Prince Paris, nothing but heavenly 
business 

Should rob my bed-mate of my company. 
Dio. That’s my mind too. Good mor¬ 
row, Lord iEneas. 

Par. A valiant Greek, ASneas,—take his 
hand,— 

Witness the process of your speech, wherein 
You told how Diomed a whole week by days 
Did haunt you in the field. 

(123) 


124 


GroUus and Gresstda. 


JEne. Health to you, valiant sir, 

During all question of the gentle truce ; 

But when I meet you arm’d, as black defi¬ 
ance 

As heart can think or courage execute. 

Dio. The one and other Diomed embraces. 
Our bloods are now in calm ; and, so long, 
health ; 

But when contention and occasion meet, 

By Jove, I ’ll play the hunter for thy life 
With all my force, pursuit and policy. 

JEne. And thou shalt hunt a lion, that 
will fly 

With his face backward. In humane gen¬ 
tleness, 

Welcome to Troy! now, by Anchises’ life, 
Welcome, indeed! By Venus’ hand I swear, 
No man alive can love in such a sort 
The thing he means to kill more excellently. 

Dio. We sympathise. Jove, let iEneas 
live, 

If to my sword his fate be not the glory, 

A thousand complete courses of the sun ! 
But, in mine emulous honour, let him die, 
With every joint a wound, and that to¬ 
morrow. 


Bet 4* Scene t 


125 


JEne. We know each other well. 

Dio. We do ; and long to know each 
other worse. 

Par. This is the most despiteful gentle 
greeting, 

The noblest hateful love, that e’er I heard 
of. 

What business, lord, so early? 

JEne. I was sent for to the king; but 
why, I know not. 

Par. His purpose meets you : ’twas to 
bring this Greek 

To Calchas’ house; and there to render 
him, 

For the enfreed Antenor, the fair Cressid : 

Let’s have your company, or, if you please, 

Haste there before us. I constantly do 
think, 

Or rather, call my thought a certain knowl¬ 
edge, 

My brother Troilus lodges there to-night: 

Rouse him and give him note of our 
approach, 

With the whole quality wherefore : I fear 

We shall be much unwelcome. 
jEne. That I assure you : 


126 


aroUus anfc Gresstoa. 


Troilus had rather Troy were borne to 
Greece 

Than Cressid borne from Troy. 

Par. There is no help ; 

The bitter disposition of the time 

Will have it so. On, lord ; we ’ll follow you. 

JEne. Good morrow, all. 

[exit with Servant. 

Par. And tell me, noble Diomed, faith, 
tell me true, 

Even in the soul of sound good-fellowship, 

Who, in your thoughts, deserves fair Helen 
best, 

Myself or Menelaus ? 

Dio. Both alike : 

He merits well to have her that doth seek 
her, 

Not making any scruple of her soilure, 

With such a hell of pain and world of 
charge ; 

And you as well to keep her, that defend 
her, 

Not palating the taste of her dishonour, 

With such a costly loss of wealth and 
friends : 

He, like a puling cuckold, would drink up 


Bet 4. Scene l. 


127 


The lees and dregs of a flat tamed piece ; 

You, like a lecher, out of whorish loins 

Are pleased to breed out your inheritors : 

Both merits poised, each weighs nor less nor 
more, 

But he as he, the heavier for a whore. 

Par. You are too bitter to your country¬ 
woman. 

Dio. She’s bitter to her country : hear 
me, Paris : 

For every false drop in her bawdy veins 

A Grecian’s life hath sunk; for every 
scruple 

Of her contaminated carrion weight, 

A Trojan hath been slain : since she could 
speak, 

She hath not given so many good words 
breath 

As for her Greeks and Trojans suffer’d 
death. 

Par. Fair Diomed, you do as chapmen 
do, 

Dispraise the thing that you desire to buy : 

But we in silence hold this virtue well, 

We ’ll not commend what we intend to sell. 

Here lies our way. [exeunt. 


128 


tlroitus ant> Creseftm. 


Scene II. Court of Pandarus ’ house. 

Enter TROILUS and CRESSIDA. 

Tro. Dear, trouble not yourself: the 
morn is cold. 

Cres. Then, sweet my lord, I ’ll call 
mine uncle down ; 

He shall unbolt the gates. 

Tro. Trouble him not; 

To bed, to bed : sleep kill those pretty eyes, 

And give as soft attachment to thy senses 

As infants’ empty of all thought! 

Cres. Good morrow, then. 

Tro. I prithee now, to bed. 

Cres. Are you a-weary of me ? 

Tro. O Cressida ! but that the busy day, 

Waked by the lark, hath roused the ribald 
crows, 

And dreaming night will hide our joys no 
longer, 

I would not from thee. 

Cres. Night hath been too brief. 

Tro. Beshrew the witch ! with venomous 
wights she stays 

As tediously as hell, but flies the grasps of 
love 


Bet 4. Scene 2. 


129 


With wings more momentary-swift than 
thought. 

You will catch cold, and curse me. 

Cres. Prithee, tarry: 

You men will never tarry. 

O foolish Cressid! I might have still held 

off, 

And then you would have tamed. Hark ! 
there’s one up. 

Pan. [within] What, ’s all the doors 

open here ? 

Tro. It is your uncle. 

Cres. A pestilence on him! now will he 
be mocking : 

I shall have such a life! 

Enter PA NBA XUS. 

Pan. How now, how now! how go 
maidenheads ? 

Here, you maid! where’s my cousin 
Cressid ? 

Cres. Go hang yourself, you naughty 
mocking uncle! 

You bring me to do—and then you flout me 
too. 

9 


130 


Groilus anD GresslDa. 


Pan. To do what ? to do what ? let her 
say what : what have I brought you to 
do? 

Cres. Come, come, beshrew your heart! 
you ’ll ne’er be good, nor suffer others. 

Pan. Ha, ha! Alas, poor wretch ! a 
poor capocchia ! hast not slept to-night? 
would he not, a naughty man, let it sleep? 
a bugbear take him ! 

Cres. Did not I tell you ? would he were 
knock’d i’ the head ! [ One knocks. 

Who’s that at door? good uncle, go and 
see. 

My lord, come you again into my chamber. 
You smile and mock me, as if I meant 
naughtily. 

Tro. Ha, ha! 

Cres. Come, you are deceived, I think of 
no such thing. [ knocking. 

How earnestly they knock! Pray you, come 
in: 

I would not for half Troy have you seen 
here. [exeunt Troilus and Cressida. 

Pan. Who’s there ! what’s the matter ? 
will you beat down the door ? How now ! 
what’s the matter ? 


Bet 4. Scene l. 


131 


Enter SENE AS. 

JEne. Good morrow, lord, good morrow. 
Pan. Who’s there ? my Lord JEneas 1 By 
my troth, 

I knew you not: what news with you so 
early ? 

JEne. Is not prince Troilus here ? 

Pan. Here ! what should he do here ? 
JEne. Come, he is here, my lord ; do not 
deny him : 

It doth import him much to speak with me. 

Pan. Is he here, say you ? ’tis more than 
I know, I ’ll be sworn : for my own part, I 
came in late. What should he do here ? 

JEne. Who! nay, then: come, come, 
you ’ll do him wrong ere you are ware : 
you ’ll be so true to him, to be false to him : 
do not you know of him, but yet go fetch 
him hither; go. 


Re-enter TROILUS. 


Tro. How now ! what’s the matter ? 
JEne. My lord, I scarce have leisure to 
salute you, 

My matter is so rash : there is at hand 


132 


GroUus anD Creestoa. 


Paris your brother and Deiphobus, 

The Grecian Diomed, and our Antenor 
Deliver’d to us ; and for him forthwith, 
Ere the first sacrifice, within this hour, 

We must give up to Diomedes’ hand 
The Lady Cressida. 

Tro. Is it so concluded ? 

JEne. By Priam and the general state of 
Troy. 

They are at hand and ready to effect it. 

Tro. How my achievements mock me ! 

I will go meet them : and, my Lord Aeneas, 
We met by chance; you did not find me 
here. 

JEne. Good, good, my lord ; the secrets 
of nature 

Have not more gift in taciturnity. 

[exeunt Troilus and JEneas. 
Pan. Is’t possible? no sooner got but 
lost ? The devil take Antenor ! the young 
prince will go mad : a plague upon Antenor l 
I would they had broke’s neck ! 

Re-enter CRESSIDA. 

Cres. How now ! what’s the matter ? 
who was here ? 


Bet 4, 


Scene 2 


133 


Pan. Ah, ah! 

Cres. Why sigh you so profoundly ? 
where’s my lord ? gone ! Tell me, sweet 
uncle, what’s the matter ? 

Pan. Would I were as deep under the 
earth as I am above ! 

Cres. O the gods ! What’s the matter ? 

Pan. Prithee, get thee in : would thou 
hadst ne’er been born ! I knew thou wouldst 
be his death : O, poor gentleman ! A plague 
upon Antenor! 

Cres. Good uncle, I beseech you, on my 
knees I beseech you, what’s the matter ? 

Pan. Thou must be gone, wench, thou 
must be gone ; thou art changed for Ante¬ 
nor : thou must to thy father, and be gone 
from Troilus : ’twill be his death ; ’twill be 
his bane; he cannot bear it. 

Cres. O you immortal gods ! I will not 
go. 

Pan. Thou must. 

Cres. I will not, uncle : I have forgot 
my father ; 

I know no touch of consanguinity ; 

No kin, no love, no blood, no soul so near 
me 


134 


Groilus anD Cresstoa. 


As the sweet Troilus. O you gods divine ! 

Make Cressid’s name the very crown of 
falsehood, 

If ever she leave Troilus ! Time, force, and 
death, 

Do to this body wdiat extremes you can ; 

But the strong base and building of my love 

Is as the very centre of the earth, 

Drawing all things to it. I ’ll go in and 
weep,— 

Pan. Do, do. 

Cres. Tear my bright hair and scratch 
my praised cheeks, 

Crack my clear voice with sobs, and break 
my heart 

With sounding Troilus. I will not go from 
Troy [exeunt. 

Scene III. Before Pandarus ’ house. 

Enter PARIS, TROILUS, jENEAS, DEIPHOBUS, 
AN TEN OR, and DIOMEDES. 

Par. It is great morning, and the hour 
prefix’d 

For her delivery to this valiant Greek 

Comes fast upon : good my brother Troilus, 


Bet 4. Scene 4. 


135 


Tell you the lady what she is to do, 

And haste her to the purpose. 

Tro. Walk into her house ; 

I ’ll bring her to the Grecian presently : 

And to his hand when I deliver her, 

Think it an altar, and thy brother Troilus 
A priest, there offering to it his own heart. 

[exit. 

Par. I know what ’tis to love ; 

And would, as I shall pity, I could help ! 
Please you walk in, my lords. [exeunt. 

Scene IV. A room in Pandarus ’ house. 

Enter PANDARUS and CRESSIDA. 

Pan. Be moderate, be moderate. 

Cres. Why tell you me of moderation ? 
The grief is fine, full, perfect, that I taste, 
And violenteth in a sense as strong 
As that which causeth it: how can I mod¬ 
erate it ? 

If I could temporise with my affection, 

Or brew it to a weak and colder palate, 

The like allayment could I give my grief : 
My love admits no qualifying dross ; 

No more my grief, in such a precious loss. 


136 


Groilus anD Gresstoa. 


Enter TROILUS. 

Pan. Here, here, here he comes. Ah, 
sweet ducks ! 

Cres. O Troilus ! Troilus ! 

[Embracing him. 
Pan. What a pair of spectacles is here ! 
Let me embrace too. ‘ O heart,’ as the 
goodly saying is, 

‘ O heart, heavy heart, 

Why sigh’st thou without breaking ? ’ 

where he answers again, 

‘ Because thou canst not ease thy smart 
By friendship nor by speaking.’ 

There was never a truer rhyme. Let us 
cast away nothing, for we may live to have 
need of such a verse : we see ifr, we see it. 
How now, lambs ! 

Tro. Cressid, I love thee in so strain’d a 
purity, 

That the blest gods, as angry with my 
fancy, 

More bright in zeal than the devotion which 
Cold lips blow to their deities, take thee from 
me. 


Bet 4. Scene 4, 


137 


Cres. Have the gods envy ? 

Pan. Ay, ay, ay, ay; ’tis too plain a 
case. 

Cres. And is it true that I must go from 
Troy ? 

Tro. A hateful truth. 

Cres. What, and from Troilus too ? 

Tro. From Troy and Troilus. 

Cres. Is it possible ? 

Tro. And suddenly; where injury of 
chance 

Puts back leave-taking, justles roughly by 
All time of pause, rudely beguiles our lips 
Of all rejoindure, forcibly prevents 
Our lock’d embrasures, strangles our dear 
vows 

Even in the birth of our own labouring 
breath : 

We two, that with so many thousand sighs 
Did buy each other, must poorly sell our¬ 
selves 

With the rude brevity and discharge of one. 
Injurious time now with a robber’s haste 
Crams his rich thievery up, he knows not 
how : 

As many farewells as be stars in heaven, 


1 


138 


GroUus anO GresslOa. 


With distinct breath and consign’d kisses to 
them, 

He fumbles up into a loose adieu, 

And scants us with a single famish’d kiss, 
Distasted with the salt of broken tears. 

JEneas. [within ] My lord, is the lady 
ready ? 

Tro. Hark ! you are call’d : some say the 
Genius so 

Cries ‘ Come ! ’ to him that instantly must 
die. 

Bid them have patience; she shall come anon. 

Pan. Where are my tears ? rain, to lay 
this wind, or my heart will be blown up by 
the root. [exit. 

Cres. I must then to the Grecians ? 

Tro. No remedy. 

Cres. A woeful Cressid ’mongst the merry 
Greeks! 

When shall we see again ? 

Tro. Hear me, my love : be thou but 
true of heart. 

Cres. I true! how now! what wicked 
deem is this ? 

Tro. Nay, we must use expostulation 
kindly, 


Bet 4, Scene 4. 


139 


For it is parting from us : 

I speak not ‘ be thou true,’ as fearing thee ; 
For I will throw my glove to Death himself, 
That there’s no maculation in thy heart : 
But ‘ be thou true,’ say I, to fashion in 
My sequent protestation ; be thou true, 

And I will see thee. 

Cres. O, you shall be exposed, my lord, 
to dangers 

As infinite as imminent: but I ’ll be true. 
Tro. And I ’ll grow friend with danger. 
Wear this sleeve. 

Cres. And you this glove. When shall I 
see you ? 

Tro. I will corrupt the Grecian sentinels, 
To give thee nightly visitation. 

But yet, be true. 

Cres. O heavens ! ‘ Be true’ again! 

Tro. Hear why I speak it, love : 

The Grecian youths are full of quality ; 
They ’re loving, well composed with gifts 
of nature, 

And flowing o’er with arts and exercise : 
How novelties may move and parts with 
person, 

Alas, a kind of godly jealousy— 


140 


Groilus anD Cresslfca. 


Which, I beseech you, call a virtuous sin— 
Makes me afeard. 

Cres. O heavens ! you love me not. 

Tro. Die I a villain then ! 

In this I do not call your faith in question, 
So mainly as my merit : I cannot sing, 

Nor heel the high lavolt, nor sweeten talk, 
Nor play at subtle games ; fair virtues all, 
To which the Grecians are most prompt and 
pregnant: 

But I can tell that in each grace of these 
There lurks a still and dumb-discoursive 
devil 

That tempts most cunningly : but be not 
tempted. 

Cres. Do you think I will ? 

Tro. No : 

But something may be done that we will 
not: 

And sometimes we are devils to ourselves, 
When we will tempt the frailty of our 
powers, 

Presuming on their changeful potency. 
JEne. [ within J Nay, good my lord 1 
Tro. Come, kiss ; and let us part. 

Par. [within] Brother Troilus ! 


Bet 4. Scene 4. 


141 

Tro. Good brother, come you hither ; 

And bring iEneas and the Grecian with 
you. 

Cres. My lord, will you be true ? 

Tro. Who, I? alas, it is my vice, my 
fault: 

Whiles others fish with craft for great 
opinion, 

I with great truth catch mere simplicity ; 

Whilst some with cunning gild their copper 
crowns, 

With truth and plainness I do wear mine 
bare. 

Fear not my truth : the moral of my wit 

Is ‘ plain and true ’; there’s all the reach 
of it. 

Enter rENEAS, PARIS, ANTENOR, DEIPHOBUS , 
and DIOMEDES. 

Welcome, Sir Diomed ! here is the lady 

Which for Antenor we deliver you : 

At the port, lord, I ’ll give her to thy hand ; 

And by the way possess thee what she is. 

Entreat her fair ; and, by my soul, fair 
Greek, 

If e’er thou stand at mercy of my sword, 


142 


GroUus anD GresslDa. 


Name Cressid, and thy life shall be as safe 
As Priam is in Ilion. 

Dio. Fair Lady Cressid, 

So please you, save the thanks this prince 
expects : 

The lustre in your eye, heaven in your 
cheek, 

Pleads your fair usage ; and to Diomed 
You shall be mistress, and command him 
wholly. 

Tro. Grecian, thou dost not use me 
courteously, 

To shame the zeal of my petition to thee 
In praising her : I tell thee, lord of Greece, 
She is as far high-soaring o’er thy praises 
As thou unworthy to be call’d her servant. 

I charge thee use her well, even for my 
charge ; 

For, by the dreadful Pluto, if thou dost not, 
Though the great bulk Achilles be thy 
guard, 

I ’ll cut thy throat. 

Dio. O, be not moved, Prince Troilus : 
Let me be privileged by my place and mes¬ 
sage 

To be a speaker free ; when I am hence, 















































144 


Grotlus anD GressiDa. 


I ’ll answer to my lust: and know you, lord, 
I ’ll nothing do on charge : to her own worth 
She shall be prized ; but that you say ‘ Be’t 
so,’ 

I ’ll speak it in my spirit and honour ‘ No 1 ’ 
Tro. Come, to the port. I ’ll tell thee, 
Diomed, 

This brave shall oft make thee to hide thy 
head. 

Lady, give me your hand ; and, as we walk, 
To our own selves bend we our needful talk. 
[exeunt Troilus , Cressida, and Diomedes. 

[A trumpet sounds. 
Par. Hark ! Hector’s trumpet. 

AZne. How have we spent this morning! 
The prince must think me tardy and remiss, 
That swore to ride before him to the field. 
Par. ’Tis Troilus’ fault: come, come, to 
field with him. 

Dei. Let us make ready straight. 

JEne. Yea, with a bridegroom’s fresh 
alacrity, 

Let us address to tend on Hector’s hoels : 
The glory of our Troy doth this day lie 
On his fair worth and single chivalry. 

[exeunt. 


Bet 4. Scene 5. 


145 


Scene V. The Grecian camp. Lists set 
out. 

Enter A JA X, armed ; A GA MEM NON, A CHILLES, 
PA TROCLUS, MEN EL A US, ULYSSES\ 
NESTOR, and others. 

Agam. Here art thou in appointment 
fresh and fair, 

Anticipating time with starting courage. 
Give with thy trumpet a loud note to Troy, 
Thou dreadful Ajax, that the appalled air 
May pierce the head of the great combatant 
And hale him hither. 

Ajax. Thou, trumpet, there’s 

my purse. 

Now crack thy lungs, and split thy brazen 
pipe: 

Blow, villain, till thy sphered bias cheek 
Outswell the colic of puff’d Aquilon : 

Come, stretch thy chest, and let thy eyes 
spout blood; 

Thou blow’st for Hector. 

[Trumpet sounds. 
Ulyss. No trumpet answers. 

Achil. ’Tis but early 

days. 

10 


146 


Groilus atiD Gresstoa. 


Again. Is not yond Diomed, with Cal- 
chas’ daughter ? 

Ulyss. Tis he, I ken the manner of his 
gait; 

He rises on the toe : that spirit of his 

In aspiration lifts him from the earth. 

Enter DIOMEDES , with CRESSIDA. 

Agam. Is this the Lady Cressid ? 

Dio. Even she. 

Again. Most dearly welcome to the 
Greeks, sweet lady. 

Nest. Our general doth salute you with a 
kiss. 

Ulyss. Yet is the kindness but particu¬ 
lar ; 

’Twere better she were kiss’d in general. 

Nest. And very courtly counsel: I ’ll 
begin. 

So much for Nestor. 

Achil. I ’ll take that winter from your 
lips, fair lady : 

Achilles bids you welcome. 

Men. I had good argument for kissing 
once. 


Bet 4. Scene 5. 


147 


Patr. But that’s no argument for kissing 
now; 

For thus popp’d Paris in his hardiment, 

And parted thus you and your argument. 

Ulyss. O deadly gall, and theme of all 
our scorns ! 

For which we lose our heads to gild his 
horns. 

Patr. The first was Menelaus’ kiss ; this, 
mine : 

Patroclus kisses you. 

Men. O, this is trim ! 

Patr. Paris and I kiss evermore for him. 

Men. I ’ll have my kiss, sir. Lady, by 
your leave. 

Cres. In kissing, do you render or re¬ 
ceive ? 

Patr. Both take and give. 

Cres. I’ll make my 

match to live, 

The kiss you take is better than you give ; 

Therefore no kiss. 

Men. I ’ll give you boot, I ’ll give you 
three for one. 

Cres. You ’re an odd man ; give even, or 
give none. 


148 


Groilus anfc Cresstoa. 


Men. An odd man, lady ! every man is 
odd. 

Cres. No, Paris is not; for, you know, 
’tis true, 

That you are odd, and he is even with you. 

Men. You fillip me o’ the head. 

Cres. No, I ’ll be 

sworn. 

Ulyss. It were no match, your nail 
against his horn. 

May I, sweet lady, beg a kiss of you ? 

Cres. You may. 

Ulyss. I do desire it. 

Cres. Why, beg 

then. 

Ulyss. Why then, for Venus’ sake, give 
me a kiss, 

When Helen is a maid again, and his. 

Cres. I am your debtor ; claim it when 
’tis due. 

U lyss. Never’s my day, and then a kiss 
of you. 

Dio. Lady, a word: I ’ll bring you to 
your father. [ exit with Cressida. 

Nest. A woman of quick sense. 

Ulyss. Fie, fie upon her I 


Bet 4. Scene 5 


149 


There’s language in her eye, her cheek, her 
lip, 

Nay, her foot speaks ; her wanton spirits 
look out 

At every joint and motive of her body. 

O, these encounterers, so glib of tongue, 

That give accosting welcome ere it comes, 

And wide unclasp the tables of their 
thoughts 

To every ticklish reader ! set them down 

For sluttish spoils of opportunity, 

And daughters of the game. 

[Trumpet within. 

All. The Trojans’ trumpet. 

Agam. Yonder comes 

the troop. 

Flourish. Enter HECTOR , armed; jENEAS , 

TROILUS , and other Trojans , with Attendants. 

JEne. Hail, all the state of Greece l 
what shall be done 

To him that victory commands ? or do you 
purpose 

A victor shall be known? will you the 
knights 

Shall to the edge of all extremity 


Groilus an£> Cresstfca, 


150 

Pursue each other, or shall they be divided 

By any voice or order of the field ? 

Hector bade ask. 

Agam. Which way would Hector 

have it ? 

JEne. He cares not; he ’ll obey conditions. 

Achil. ’Tis done like Hector; but se¬ 
curely done, 

A little proudly, and great deal misprizing 

The knight opposed. 

JEne. If not Achilles, sir, 

What is your name ? 

Achil. If not Achilles, nothing. 

AHne. Therefore Achilles : but, whate’er, 
know this : 

In the extremity of great and little, 

Valour and pride excel themselves in 
Hector; 

The one almost as infinite as all, 

The other blank as nothing. Weigh him 
well, 

And that which looks like pride is courtesy. 

This Ajax is half made of Hector’s blood : 

In love whereof, half Hector stays at home ; 

Half heart, half hand, half Hector comes to 
seek 


Bet 4 * Scene 5 . 


151 

This blended knight, half Trojan and half 
Greek. 

Achil. A maiden battle then ? O, I per¬ 
ceive you. 


Re-enter DIOMEDES. 


Agani. Here is Sir Diomed. Go, gentle 
knight, 

Stand by our Ajax : as you and Lord 
JEneas 

Consent upon the order of their fight, 

So be it; either to the uttermost, 

Or else a breath : the combatants being kin 

Half stints their strife before their strokes 
begin. 

[Ajax and Hector enter the lists. 

Ulyss. They are opposed already. 

Agam. What Trojan is that same that 
looks so heavy ? 

Ulyss. The youngest son of Priam, a 
true knight, 

Not yet mature, yet matchless, firm of 
word. 

Speaking in deeds and deedless in his 
tongue, 


152 


Grotlus anD GressiDa, 


Not soon provoked nor being provoked soon 
calm’d; 

His heart and hand both open and both free; 

For what he has he gives, what thinks he 
shows ; 

Yet gives he not till judgement guide his 
bounty, 

Nor dignifies an impair thought with 
breath ; 

Manly as Hector, but more dangerous; 

For Hector in his blaze of wrath subscribes 

To tender objects, but he in heat of action 

Is more vindicative than jealous love : 

They call him Troilus, and on him erect 

A second hope, as fairly built as Hector. 

Thus says iEneas; one that knows the 
youth 

Even to his inches, and with private soul 

Did in great Ilion thus translate him to me. 

[ Alarum. Hector and Ajax fight. 

Agam. They are in action. 

Nest. Now, Ajax, hold thine own ! 

Tro. Hector, thou sleep’st; 

Awake thee ! 

Agam. His blows are well disposed: 
there, Ajax l 



























154 


Groilus anO Greestoa. 


Dio. You must no more. 

[Trumpets cease. 

AE hie. Princes, enough, so please you. 

Ajax. I am not warm yet; let us fight 
again. 

Dio. As Hector pleases. 

Hect. Why, then will I no more : 

Thou art, great lord, my father’s sisters son, 
A cousin-german to great Priam’s seed ; 

The obligation of our blood forbids 
A gory emulation ’twixt us twain : 

Were thy commixtion Greek and Trojan so, 
That thou couldst say ‘ This hand is Grecian 
all, 

And this is Trojan ; the sinews of this leg 
All Greek, and this all Troy ; my mother’s 
blood 

Runs on the dexter cheek, and this sinister 
Bounds in my father’s; ’ by Jove mul- 
tipotent, 

Thou shouldst not bear from me a Greekish 
member 

Wherein my sword had not impressure made 
Of our rank feud : but the just gods gainsay 
That any drop thou borrow’dst from thy 
mother, 


Bet 4 * Scene 5 . 


155 


My sacred aunt, should by my mortal sword 
Be drained ! Let me embrace thee, Ajax : 
By him that thunders, thou hast lusty arms ; 
Hector would have them fall upon him thus: 
Cousin, all honour to thee ! 

Ajax. I thank thee, Hector: 

Thou art too gentle and too free a man : 

I came to kill thee, cousin, and bear hence 
A great addition earned in thy death. 

Hect. Not Neoptolemus so mirable, 

On whose bright crest Fame with her 
loud’st Oyes 

Cries ‘ This is he,’ could promise to himself 
A thought of added honour torn from 
Hector. 

JEne . There is expectance here from both 
the sides, 

What further you will do. 

Hect. We ’ll answer it; 

The issue is embracement: Ajax, farewell. 
Ajax. If I might in entreaties find suc¬ 
cess,— 

As seld I have the chance—I would desire 
My famous cousin to our Grecian tents. 

Dio. ’Tis Agamemnon’s wish ; and great 
Achilles 


156 Grotlus anD Gresstoa. 

Doth long to see unarm’d the valiant 
Hector. 

Hect. iEneas, call my brother Troilus 
to me : 

And signify this loving interview 

To the expecters of our Trojan part; 

Desire them home. Give me thy hand, my 
cousin ; 

I will go eat with thee, and see your knights. 

Ajax. Great Agamemnon comes to meet 
us here. 

Hect. The worthiest of them tell me 
name by name ; 

But for Achilles, my own searching eyes 

Shall find him by his large and portly size. 

Agam. Worthy of arms ! as welcome as 
to one 

That would be rid of such an enemy ; 

But that’s no welcome : understand more 
clear, 

What’s past and what’s to come is strew’d 
with husks 

And formless ruin of oblivion ; 

But in this extant moment, faith and troth, 

Strain’d purely from all hollow bias-draw- 
ing, 


Bet 4 . Scene 5 . 


157 


Bids thee, with most divine integrity, 

From heart of very heart, great Hector, 
welcome. 

Hect. I thank thee, most imperious Aga¬ 
memnon. 

Agam. [to Troilus ] My well-famed 
lord of Troy, no less to you. 

Men. Let me confirm my princely brother’s 
greeting; 

You brace of warlike brothers, welcome 
hither. 

Hect. Who must we answer ? 

JEne. The noble Menelaus. 

Hect. O, you, my lord! by Mars his 
gauntlet, thanks ! 

Mock not, that I affect the untraded oath ; 

Your quondam wife swears still by Venus’ 
glove : 

She’s well, but bade me not commend her 
to you. 

Men. Name her not now, sir; she’s a 
deadly theme. 

Hect. O, pardon ; I offend. 

Nest. I have, thou gallant Trojan, seen 
thee oft, 

Labouring for destiny, make cruel way 


158 


GroUus anO CresslDa, 


Through ranks of Greekish youth ; and I 
have seen thee, 

Ashot as Perseus, spur thy Phrygian steed, 
Despising many forfeits and subduements, 
When thou hast hung thy advanced sword 
i’ the air, 

Not letting it decline on the declined, 

That I have said to some my standers by 
‘ Lo, Jupiter is yonder, dealing life ! ’ 

And I have seen thee pause and take thy 
breath, 

When that a ring of Greeks have hemm’d 
thee in, 

Like an Olympian wrestling: this have I 
seen; 

But this thy countenance, still lock’d in steel, 
I never saw till now. I knew thy grandsire, 
And once fought with him : he was a soldier 
good; 

But, by great Mars the captain of us all, 
Never like thee. Let an old man embrace 
thee ; 

And, worthy warrior, welcome to our tents. 

JEne. ’Tis the old Nestor. 

Heet. Let me embrace thee, good old 
chronicle, 


Bet 4 . Scene 5 . 


159 


That hast so long walk’d hand in hand with 
time : 

Most reverend Nestor, I am glad to clasp 
thee. 

Nest. I would my arms could match thee 
in contention, 

As they contend with thee in courtesy. 

Hect. I would they could. 

Nest. Ha! 

By this white beard, I’Id fight with thee 
to-morrow : 

Well, welcome, welcome !—I have seen the 
time. 

Ulyss. I wonder now how yonder city 
stands, 

When we have here her base and pillar by 
us. 

Hect. I know your favour, Lord Ulysses, 
well. 

Ah, sir, there’s many a Greek and Trojan 
dead, 

Since first I saw yourself and Diomed 

In Ilion, on your Greekish embassy. 

Ulyss. Sir, I foretold you then what 
would ensue : 

My prophecy is but half his journey yet; 


i6o 


Grollus aitD Cresslba. 


For yonder walls, that pertly front your 
town, 

Yond towers, whose wanton tops do buss the 
clouds, 

Must kiss their own feet. 

Hect. I must not believe you : 

There they stand yet; and modestly I think, 

The fall of every Phrygian stone will cost 

A drop of Grecian blood : the end crowns 
all, 

And that old common arbitrator, Time, 

Will one day end it. 

Ulyss. So to him we leave it. 

Most gentle and most valiant Hector, wel¬ 
come : 

After the general, I beseech you next 

To feast with me and see me at my tent. 

Achil. I shall forestall thee, Lord Ulysses, 
thou ! 

Now, Hector, I have fed mine eyes on thee ; 

I have with exact view perused thee, Hector, 

And quoted joint by joint. 

Hect. Is this Achilles ? 

Achil. I am Achilles. 

Hect. Stand fair, I pray thee : let me 
look on thee. 






















































162 


ftroUus atiD Cressfoa. 


Achil. Behold thy fill. 

Hect. Nay, I have done already. 

Achil. Thou art too brief: I will the 
second time, 

As I would buy thee, view thee limb by 
limb. 

Hect. O, like a book of sport thou’It 
read me o’er ; 

But there’s more in me than thou under¬ 
stands. 

Why dost thou so oppress me with thine 
eye? 

Achil. Tell me, you heavens, in which 
part of his body 

Shall I destroy him? whether there, or 
there, or there? 

That I may give the local wound a name, 

And make distinct the very breach whereout 

Hector’s great spirit flew: answer me, 
heavens! 

Hect. It would discredit the blest gods, 
proud man, 

To answer such a question : stand again : 

Think’st thou to catch my life so pleasantly, 

As to prenominate in nice conjecture 

Where thou wilt hit me dead ? 


Bet 4 . Scene 5 . 


163 

Achil. I tell thee, yea. 

Hect. Wert thou an oracle to tell me so, 

I’Id not believe thee. Henceforth guard 
thee well; 

For I ’ll not kill thee there, nor there, nor 
there ; 

But, by the forge that stithied Mars his helm, 

I ’ll kill thee every where, yea, o’er and o’er. 

You wisest Grecians, pardon me this brag ; 

His insolence draws folly from my lips ; 

But I ’ll endeavour deeds to match these 
words, 

Or may I never— 

Ajax. Do not chafe thee, cousin : 

And you, Achilles, let these threats alone 

Till accident or purpose bring you to’t: 

You may have every day enough of Hector, 

If you have stomach : the general state, I 
fear, 

Can scarce entreat you to be odd with him. 

Hect. I pray you, let us see you in the 
field: 

We have had pelting wars since you refused 

The Grecians’ cause. 

Achil. Dost thou entreat me. 

Hector ? 


164 


Grotlus anD GresslDa, 


To-morrow do I meet thee, fell as death; 

To-night all friends. 

Hect. Thy hand upon that match. 

Agam. First, all you peers of Greece, go 
to my tent; 

There in the full convive we : afterwards, 

As Hector’s leisure and your bounties shall 

Concur together, severally entreat him. 

Beat loud the tabourines, let the trumpets 
blow, 

That this great soldier may his welcome 
know. 

[exeunt all but Troilus and Ulysses. 

Tro. My Lord XJlysses, tell me, I be¬ 
seech you, 

In what place of the field doth Calchas 
keep? 

Ulyss. At Menelaus’ tent, most princely 
Troilus: 

There Diomed doth feast with him to-night; 

Who neither looks upon the heaven nor 
earth, 

But gives all gaze and bent of amorous view 

On the fair Cressid. 

Tro. Shall I, sweet lord, be bound to you 
so much, 


Bet 4 . Scene 5 . 


165 


After we part from Agamemnon’s tent, 

To bring me thither ? 

Ulyss. You shall command 

me, sir. 

As gentle tell me, of what honour was 

This Cressida in Troy ? Had she no lover 
there 

That wails her absence ? 

Tro. O, sir, to such as boasting show 
their scars, 

A mock is due. Will you walk on, my lord ? 

She was beloved, she loved; she is, and 
doth: 

But still sweet love is food for fortune’s 
tooth. [exeunt. 


ACT V. 

Scene I. The Grecian camp. Before 
Achilles’ tent. 

Enter ACHILLES and PA TROCLUS. 

Achil. I ’ll heat his blood with Greekish 
wine to-night, 

Which with my scimitar I ’ll cool to-morrow. 
Patroclus, let us feast him to the height. 
Patr. Here comes Thersites. 

Enter THERSITES. 

Achil. How now, thou core of envy ! 
Thou crusty batch of nature, what’s the 
news ? 

Ther. Why, thou picture of what thou 
seemest, and idol of idiot-worshippers, 
here’s a letter for thee. 

Achil. From whence, fragment ? 

Ther. Why, thou full dish of fool, from 
Troy. 

( l66 J 


Bet 5 . Scene l. 


167 


Patr. Who keeps the tent now ? 

Ther. The surgeon’s box, or the patient’s 
wound. 

Patr. Well said, adversity! and what 
need these tricks ? 

Ther. Prithee, be silent, boy ; I profit 
not by thy talk : thou art thought to be 
Achilles’ male varlet. 

Patr. Male varlet, you rogue! what’s 
that? 

Ther. Why, his masculine whore. Now, 
the rotten diseases of the south, the guts- 
griping, ruptures, catarrhs, loads o’ gravel 
i’ the back, lethargies, cold palsies, raw eyes, 
dirt-rotten livers, wheezing lungs, bladders 
full of imposthume, sciaticas, limekilns i’ 
the palm, incurable bone-ache, and the 
rivelled fee-simple of the tetter, take and 
take again such preposterous discoveries ! 

Patr. Why, thou damnable box of envy, 
thou, what mean’st thou to curse thus ? 

Ther. Do I curse thee ? 

Patr. Why, no, you ruinous butt; you 
whoreson indistinguishable cur, no. 

Ther. No ! why art thou then exasper¬ 
ate, thou idle immaterial skein of sleave 


i68 


GroUus anD GreesfDa, 


silk, thou green sarcenet flap for a sore eye, 
thou tassel of a prodigal’s purse, thou ? Ah, 
how the poor world is pestered with such 
waterflies, diminutives of nature ! 

Patr. Out, gall! 

Ther. Finch-egg! 

Achil. My sweet Patroclus, I am thwart¬ 
ed quite 

From my great purpose in to-morrow’s 
battle. 

Here is a letter from Queen Hecuba, 

A token from her daughter, my fair love, 
Both taxing me and gaging me to keep 
An oath that I have sworn. I will not 
break it: 

Fall Greeks; fail fame ; honour or go or 
stay ; 

My major vow lies here, this I ’ll obey. 
Come, come, Thersites, help to trim my 
tent: 

This night in banqueting must all be spent. 
Away, Patroclus ! 

[exeunt Achilles and Patroclus. 
Ther. With too much blood and too little 
brain, these two may run mad; but, if with 
too much brain and too little blood they do, 


Bet 5 . Scene t. 


169 


I’ll be a curer of madmen. Here’s Aga¬ 
memnon, an honest fellow enough and one 
that loves quails; but he has not so much 
brain as ear-wax : and the goodly transfor¬ 
mation of Jupiter there, his brother, the bull, 
the primitive statue and oblique memorial of 
cuckolds; a thrifty shoeing-horn in a chain, 
hanging at his brother’s leg,—to what form 
but that he is, should wit larded with mal¬ 
ice and malice forced with wit turn him to ? 
To an ass, were nothing ; he is both ass and 
ox : to an ox, were nothing ; he is both ox 
and ass. To be a dog, a mule, a cat, a 
fitchew, a toad, a lizard, an owl, a puttock, 
or a herring without a roe, I would not 
care; but to be Menelaus! I would con¬ 
spire against destiny. Ask me not what I 
would be, if I were not Thersites ; for I care 
not to be the louse of a lazar, so I were not 
Menelaus. Hoy-day ! spirits and fires ! 

Enter HECTOR , TROILUS , AJAX , AGAMEM¬ 
NON, ULYSSES , NESTOR , MENELAUS , and 

DIOMEDES , with lights. 

Agam. We go wrong, we go wrong. 

Ajax. No, yonder ’tis; 

There, where we see the lights. 


170 


GroUus anD GresslDa. 


Hect. I trouble you. 

Ajax. No, not a whit. 

Re-enter A CHILLES. 

Ulyss. Here comes himself 

to guide you. 

Achil. Welcome, brave Hector; wel¬ 
come, princes all. 

Agam. So now, fair Prince of Troy, I bid 
good night. 

Ajax commands the guard to tend on you. 

Hect. Thanks and good night to the 
Greeks’ general. 

Men. Good night, my lord. 

Hect. Good night, 

sweet Lord Menelaus. 

Ther. Sweet draught: sweet, quoth a’ ! 
sweet sink, sweet sewer. 

Achil. Good night and welcome, both at 
once, to those, 

That go or tarry. 

Agam. Good night. 

[exeunt Agamemnon and Menelaus. 

Achil. Old Nestor tarries; and you too, 
Diomed, 

Keep Hector company an hour or two. 


Bet 5 . Scene 1 


171 

Dio. I cannot, lord ; I have important 
business, 

The tide whereof is now. Good night, great 
Hector. 

Hect. Give me your hand. 

Vlyss. [aside to Troilus ] Follow his 
torch ; he goes to Calchas’ tent: 

I ’ll keep you company. 

Tro. Sweet sir, you honour me. 

Hect . And so, good night. 

[exit Diomedes; Ulysses and 
Troilus following. 

Achil. Come, come, enter my tent. 
[exeunt Achilles, Hector, Ajax, and Nestor. 

Ther. That same Diomed’s a false-hearted 
rogue, a most unjust knave ; I will no more 
trust him when he leers than I will a serpent 
when he hisses : he will spend his mouth 
and promise, like Brabbler the hound ; but 
when he performs, astronomers foretell it; 
it is prodigious, there will come some 
change; the sun borrows of the moon 
when Diomed keeps his word. I will 
rather leave to see Hector than not to dog 
him : they say he keeps a Trojan drab and 
uses the traitor Calchas’ tent: I ’ll after. 


172 


GroUus anD Gresstoa. 


Nothing but lechery ! all incontinent var- 
lets! [exit. 

Scene II. The same. Before Calchas ’ tent. 

Enter DIOMEDES. 

Dio. What, are you up here, ho ? speak. 
Cal. [ within ] Who calls? 

Dio. Diomed. Calchas, I think. Where’s 
your daughter ? 

Cal. [within ] She comes to you. 


Enter TROILUS and ULYSSES, at a distance; 
after them , THERSITES. 

Ulyss. Stand where the torch may not 
discover us. 

Enter CRESSIDA. 

Tro. Cressid comes forth to him. 

Dio. How now, my charge ! 

Cres. Now, my sweet guardian ! Hark, 
a word with you. [whispers. 

Tro. Yea, so familiar! 

Ulyss. She will sing any man at first 
sight. 


Bet 5 . Scene 2. 


173 


Ther. And any man may sing her, if he 
can take her cliff ; she’s noted 

Dio. Will you remember? 

Ores. Remember! yes. 

Dio. Nay, but do, then ; 

And let your mind be coupled with your 
words. 

Tro. What should she remember ? 

Ulyss. List. 

Cres. Sweet honey Greek, tempt me no 
more to folly. 

Ther. Roguery ! 

Dio. Nay, then,— 

Cres. I ’ll tell you what,— 

Dio. Foh, foh ! come, tell a pin : you are 
forsworn. 

Cres. In faith, I cannot: what would 
you have me do ? 

Ther. A juggling trick,—to be secretly 
open. 

Dio. What did you swear you would 
bestow on me ? 

Cres. I prithee, do not hold me to mine 
oath ; 

Bid me do any thing but that, sweet Greek. 

Dio. Good night. 


174 


Grotlus anfc GresstDa, 


Tro. Hold, patience ! 

Ulyss. How now, Trojan ! 

Cres. Diomed,— 

Dio. No, no, good night: I ’ll be your 
fool no more. 

Tro. Thy better must. 

Cres. Hark, one word in your ear. 

Tro. O plague and madness ! 

Ulyss. You are moved, prince; let us 
depart, I pray you, 

Lest your displeasure should enlarge itself 

To wrathful terms : this place is dangerous ; 

The time right deadly ; I beseech you, go. 

Tro. Behold, I pray you ! 

Ulyss. Nay, good my 

lord, go off: 

You flow to great distraction ; come, my 
lord. 

Tro. I pray thee, stay. 

Ulyss. You have not pa¬ 

tience ; come. 

Tro. I pray you, stay; by hell and all 
hell’s torments, 

I will not speak a word. 

Dio. And so, good night. 

Cres. Nay, but you part in anger. 


Bet 5 . Scene 2 . 


175 


Tro. Doth that grieve thee ? 

O wither’d truth! 

Ulyss. Why, how now, lord ! 

Tro. By Jove, 

I will be patient. 

Cres. Guardian !—why, Greek ! 

Dio. Foh, foh ! adieu ; you palter. 

Cres. In faith, I do not: come hither 
once again. 

Ulyss. You shake, my lord, at some¬ 
thing : will you go ? 

You will break out. 

Tro. She strokes his cheek ! 

Ulyss. Come, come. 

Tro. Nay, stay; by Jove, I will not 
speak a word : 

There is between my will and all offences 
A guard of patience : stay a little while. 

Ther. How the devil luxury, with his 
fat rump and potato-finger, tickles these 
together ! Fry, lechery, fry ! 

Dio. But will you, then ? 

Cres. In faith, I will, la; never trust 
me else. 

Dio. Give me some token for the surety 
of it. 


176 


Groilus anO Gressifca. 


Cres. I ’ll fetch you one. [exit. 

Ulyss. You have sworn patience. 

Tro. Fear me not, sweet lord ; 

I will not be myself, nor have cognition 
Of what I feel: I am all patience. 

Re-enter CRESSIDA. 

Tro. Now the pledge; now, now, now I 
Cres. Here, Diomed, keep this sleeve. 
Tro. O beauty ! where is thy faith ? 
Ulyss. My lord,— 

Tro. I will be patient; outwardly I will. 
Cres. You look upon that sleeve ; behold 
it well. 

He loved me—O false wench !—Give’t me 
again. 

Dio. Whose was’t ? 

Cres. It is no matter, now I have’t 
again. 

I will not meet with you to-morrow night: 
I prithee, Diomed, visit me no more. 

Ther. Now she sharpens: well said, 
whetstone ! 

Dio. I shall have it. 

Cres. What, this ? 

Dio. Ay, that. 


Bet 5 , Scene 2 . 


177 


Cres. O, all you gods ! O pretty, pretty 
pledge! * 

Thy master now lies thinking in his bed 

Of thee and me, and sighs, and takes my 
glove, 

And gives memorial dainty kisses to it, 

As I kiss thee. Nay, do not snatch it from 
me; 

He that takes that doth take my heart 
withal. 

Dio. I had your heart before ; this follows 
it. 

Tro. I did swear patience. 

Cres. You shall not have it, Diomed; 
faith, you shall not; 

I ’ll give you something else. 

Dio. I will have this : whose was it ? 

Cres. It is no matter. 

Dio. Come, tell me whose it was. 

Cres. ’Twas one’s that loved me better 
than you will. 

But, now you have it, take it. 

Dio. Whose was it ? 

Cres. By all Diana’s waiting-women 
yond, 

And by herself, I will not tell you whose. 

12 


178 


GroUus anO GressiDa. 


Dio. To-morrow will I wear it on my 
helm, * 

And grieve his spirit that dares not chal¬ 
lenge it. 

Tro. Wert thou the devil, and worest it 
on thy horn, 

It should be challenged. 

Ores. Well, well, ’tis done, ’tis past; and 
yet it is not; 

I will not keep my word. 

Dio. Why then, farewell; 

Thou never shalt mock Diomed again. 

Cres. You shall not go: one cannot speak 
a word, 

But it straight starts you. 

Dio. I do not like this fooling. 

Tiier. Nor I, by Pluto : but that that 
likes not you 

Pleases me best. 

Dio. What, shall I come? the hour ? 

Cres . Ay, come : O Jove ! do come : I 
shall be plagued. 

Dio. Farewell till then. 

Cres. Goodnight: I prithee, come. 

[exit Diomedes. 

Troilus, farewell! one eye yet looks on thee, 



































i 8 o 


Grotlus anD GreselDa. 


But with ray heart the other eye doth see. 
All, poor our sex ! this fault in us I find, 
The error of our eye directs our mind : 
What error leads must err ; O, then conclude 
Minds sway’d by eyes are full of turpitude. 

[exit. 

Ther. A proof of strength she could not 
publish more, 

Unless she said ‘My mind is now turn’d 
whore.’ 

Ulyss. All’s done, my lord. 

Tro. It is. 

Ulyss. Why stay we then ? 

Tro. To make a recordation to my soul 
Of every syllable that here was spoke. 

But if I tell how these two did co-act, 

Shall I not lie in publishing a truth ? 

Sith yet there is a credence in my heart, 

An esperance so obstinately strong, 

That doth invert the attest of eyes and ears; 
As if those organs had deceptious functions, 
Created only to calumniate. 

Was Cressid here ? 

Ulyss. I cannot conjure, Trojan. 

Tro. She was not, sure. 

Ulyss. Most sure she was. 


Bet 5 . Scene 2 . 


181 


Tro. Why, my negation hath no taste of 
madness. 

Ulyss. Nor mine, my lord : Cressid was 
here but now. 

Tro. Let it not be believed for woman¬ 
hood ! 

Think, we had mothers ; do not give advan¬ 
tage 

To stubborn critics, apt without a theme 
For depravation, to square the general sex 
By Cressid’s rule : rather think this not 
Cressid. 

Ulyss. What hath she done, prince, that 
can soil our mothers ? 

Tro. Nothing at all, unless that this were 
she. 

Ther. Will a’ swagger himself out on’s 
own eyes ? 

Tro. This she ? no, this is Diomed’s 
Cressida: 

If beauty have a soul, this is not she ; 

If souls guide vows, if vows be sanctimonies, 
If sanctimony be the gods’ delight, 

If there be rule in unity itself, 

This is not she. O madness of discourse, 
That cause sets up with and against itself ! 


182 


Groilus art& Cresstoa. 


Bi-fold authority ! where reason can revolt 
Without perdition, and loss assume all reason 
Without revolt: this is, and is not, Cressid ! 
Within my soul there doth conduce a fight 
Of this strange nature, that a thing insepa¬ 
rate 

Divides more wider than the sky and earth ; 
And yet the spacious breadth of this division 
Admits no orifex for a point as subtle 
As Ariachne’s broken woof to enter. 
Instance, O instance! strong as Pluto’s 
gates; 

Cressid is mine, tied with the bonds of 
heaven : 

Instance, O instance! strong as heaven 
itself; 

The bonds of heaven are slipp’d, dissolved 
and loosed ; 

And with another knot, five-finger-tied, 

The fractions of her faith, orts of her love, 
The fragments, scraps, the bits and greasy 
relics 

Of her o’er-eaten faith, are bound to Dio- 
med. 

Ulyss. May worthy Troilus be half at¬ 
tach’d 


Bet 5 . Scene 2 . 


183 

With that which here his passion doth 
express ? 

Tro. Ay, Greek ; and that shall be di¬ 
vulged well 

In characters as red as Mars his heart 
Inflamed with Venus : never did young 
man fancy 

With so eternal and so fix’d a soul. 

Hark, Greek : as much as I do Cressid love, 
So much by weight hate I her Diomed : 
That sleeve is mine that he ’ll bear on his 
helm : 

Were it a casque composed by Vulcan’s skill, 
My sword should bite it: not the dreadful 
spout 

Which shipmen do the hurricano call, 
Constringed in mass by the almighty sun, 
Shall dizzy with more clamour Neptune’s ear 
In his descent, than shall my prompted 
sword 

Falling on Diomed. 

Ther. He ’ll tickle it for his concupy. 

Tro. O Cressid ! O false Cressid ! false, 
false, false ! 

Let all untruths stand by thy stained name, 
And they ’ll seem glorious. 


184 GroUus anD Gresstoa. 

Ulyss. O, contain yourself ; 

Your passion draws ears hither. 


Enter sENEAS. 


JEne. I have been seeking you this hour, 
my lord : 

Hector by this is arming him in Troy ; 

Ajax your guard stays to conduct you 
home. 

Tro. Have with you, prince. My cour¬ 
teous lord, adieu. 

Farewell, revolted fair ! and, Diomed, 

Stand fast, and wear a castle on thy head ! 
Ulyss. I ’ll bring you to the gates. 

Tro. Accept distracted thanks. 

[exeunt Troilus, JEneas , and Ulysses. 
Ther. Would I could meet that rogue 
Diomed ! I would croak like a raven ; I 
would bode, I would bode. Patroclus will 
give me any thing for the intelligence of 
this whore: the parrot will not do more 
for an almond than he for a commodious 
drab. Lechery, lechery! still wars and 
lechery! nothing else holds fashion. A 
burning devil take them ! [exit. 


Bet 5 . Scene 3 


185 


Scene III. Troy. Before Priam's palace. 

Enter HECTOR and ANDROMACHE. 

And. When was my lord so much un- 
gently temper’d, 

To stop his ears against admonishment ? 

Unarm, unarm, and do not fight to-day. 

Hect. You train me to offend you; get 
you in : 

By all the everlasting gods, I ’ll go ! 

And. My dreams will, sure, prove omi¬ 
nous to the day. 

Hect. No more, I say. 

Enter CASSANDRA. 

Cas. Where is my brother 

Hector ? 

And. Here, sister ; arm’d, and bloody in 
intent. 

Consort with me in loud and dear petition ; 

Pursue we him on knees; for I have 
dream’d 

Of bloody turbulence, and this whole night 

Hath nothing been but shapes and forms of 
slaughter. 


Grollus anfc GresstDa. 


186 

Cas. O, ’tis true. 

Hect. Ho ! bid my trumpet sound ! 

Cas. No notes of sally, for the heavens, 
sweet brother. 

Hect. Be gone, I say: the gods have 
heard me swear. 

Cas. The gods are deaf to hot and 
peevish vows : 

They are polluted offerings, more abhorr’d 

Than spotted livers in the sacrifice. 

And. O, be persuaded ! do not count it 
holy 

To hurt by being just: it is as lawful, 

For we would give much, to use violent 
thefts 

And rob in the behalf of charity. 

Cas. It is the purpose that makes strong 
the vow ; 

But vows to every purpose must not hold : 

Unarm, sweet Hector. 

Hect. Hold you still, I say ; 

Mine honour keeps the weather of my fate : 

Life every man holds dear ; but the dear 
man 

Holds honour far more precious-dear than 
life. 


Bet 5 . Scene 3 


187 


Enter TROILUS. 

How now, young man ! mean’st thou to 
fight to-day ? 

And. Cassandra, call my father to per¬ 
suade. [exit Cassandra. 

Hect. No, faith, young Troilus ; doff thy 
harness, youth : 

I am to-day i’ the vein of chivalry : 

Let grow thy sinews till their knots be 
strong, 

And tempt not yet the brushes of the war. 

Unarm thee, go ; and doubt thou not, brave 
boy, 

I ’ll stand to-day for thee and me and Troy. 

Tro. Brother, you have a vice of mercy 
in you, 

Which better fits a lion than a man. 

Hect. What vice is that, good Troilus? 
chide me for it. 

Tro. When many times the captive Gre¬ 
cian falls, 

Even in the fan and wind of your fair 
sword, 

You bid them rise and live. 

Hect. 0, ’tis fair play. 

Tro. Fool’s play, by heaven, Hector. 


i88 


tXtoilus anfc CresetDa 


Hect. How now ! how now ! 

Tro. For the love of all the gods, 

Let’s leave the hermit pity with our mother; 
And when we have our armours buckled on, 
The venom’d vengeance ride upon our 
swords, 

Spur them to ruthful work, rein them from 
ruth ! 

Hect. Fie, savage, fie ! 

Tro. Hector, then ’tis wars. 

Hect. Troilus, I would not have you 
fight to-day. 

Tro. Who should withhold me ? 

Not fate, obedience, nor the hand of Mars 
Beckoning with fiery truncheon my retire ; 
Not Priamus and Hecuba on knees, 

Their eyes o’ergalled with recourse of tears 5 
Nor you, my brother, with your true sword 
drawn, 

Opposed to hinder me, should stop my way, 
But by my ruin. 

Re-enter CASSANDRA, -with PRIAM. 

Cas. Lay hold upon him, Priam, hold 
him fast: 

He is thy crutch ; now if thou lose thy stay, 
























































IQO 


GroUus anD Cressfoa. 


Thou on him leaning, and all Troy on thee, 
Fall all together. 

Pri. Come, Hector, come, go back : 

Thy wife hath dream’d ; thy mother hath 
had visions ; 

Cassandra doth foresee ; and I myself 
Am like a prophet suddenly enrapt, 

To tell thee that this day is ominous : 
Therefore, come back. 

Hect. iEneas is afield ; 

And I do stand engaged to many Greeks, 
Even in the faith of valour, to appear 
This morning to them. 

Pri. Ay, but thou slialt not go. 

Hect. I must not break my faith. 

You know me dutiful; therefore, dear sir, 
Let me not shame respect; but give me leave 
To take that course by your consent and 
voice, 

Which you do here forbid me, royal Priam. 
Cas. O Priam, yield not to him ! 

And. Do not, dear father. 

Hect. Andromache, I am offended with 
you : 

Upon the love you bear me, get you in. 

[exit Andromache. 


Bet 5 . Scene 3 . 


191 

Tro. This foolish, dreaming, superstitious 
girl 

Makes all these bodements. 

Cas. O, farewell, dear Hector ! 

Look, how thou diest! look, how thy eye 
turns pale ! 

Look, how thy wounds do bleed at many 
vents ! 

Hark, how Troy roars! how Hecuba cries out! 

How poor Andromache shrills her dolours 
forth ! 

Behold, distraction, frenzy and amazement, 

Like witless antics, one another meet, 

And all cry ‘ Hector ! Hector’s dead ! O 
Hector ! ’ 

Tro. Away ! away ! 

Cas. Farewell: yet, soft! Hector, I take 
my leave : 

Thou dost thyself and all our Troy deceive. 

[exit. 

Hect. You are amazed, my liege, at her 
exclaim : 

Go in and cheer the town : we ’ll forth and 
fight, 

Do deeds worth praise and tell you them at 
night. 


192 


ftrollue and Cresstoa. 


PH. Farewell: the gods with safety 
stand about thee ! 

[exeunt severally Priam and Hector. Alarum. 
Tro. They are at it, hark ! Proud Diomed, 
believe, 

I come to lose my arm, or win my sleeve. 
Enter PA NDA R US. 

Pan. Do you hear, my lord? do you 
hear ? 

Tro. What now ? 

Pan. Here’s a letter come from yond 
poor girl. 

Tro. Let me read. 

Pan. A whoreson tisick, a whoreson 
rascally tisick so troubles me, and the fool¬ 
ish fortune of this girl; and what one thing, 
what another, that I shall leave you one o’ 
these days: and I have a rheum in mine 
eyes too, and such an ache in my bones that, 
unless a man were cursed, I cannot tell 
what to think on’t. What says she there? 
Tro. Words, words, mere words, no 
matter from the heart; 

The effect doth operate another way. 

[Tearing the letter 


Bet 5. Scene 4, 


193 


Go, wind, to wind, there turn and change 
together. 

My love with words and errors still she 
feeds, 

But edifies another with her deeds. 

[exeunt severally. 

Scene IV. The field between Troy and the 
Grecian camp. 

Alarums. Excursions. Enter THERSITES. 

Ther. Now they are clapper-clawing one 
another ; I ’ll go look on. That dissembling 
abominable varlet, Diomed, has got that 
same scurvy doting foolish young knave’s 
sleeve of Troy there in his helm : I would fain 
see them meet; that that same young Tro¬ 
jan ass, that loves the whore there, might 
send that Greekish whoremasterly villain, 
with the sleeve, back to the dissembling 
luxurious drab, of a sleeveless errand. O’ 
the t’ other side, the policy of those crafty 
swearing rascals, that stale old mouse-eaten 
dry cheese, Nestor, and that same dog¬ 
fox, Ulysses, is not proved worth a black¬ 
berry. They set me up in policy that 
*3 




194 


Grotlus anD Gressi&a, 


mongrel cur, Ajax, against that dog of as 
bad a kind, Achilles : and now is the cur 
Ajax prouder than the cur Achilles, and will 
not arm to-day ; whereupon the Grecians 
begin to proclaim barbarism, and policy 
grows into an ill opinion. 

Enter DIOMEDES and TROILUS. 

Soft! here comes sleeve, and t’ other. 

Tro. Fly not; for shouldst thou take the 
river Styx, 

I would swim after. 

Dio. Thou dost miscall retire : 

I do not fly ; but advantageous care 
Withdrew me from the odds of multitude : 
Have at thee! 

Ther. Hold thy whore, Grecian! Now 
for thy whore, 

Trojan ! Now the sleeve, now the sleeve ! 
[exeunt Troilus and Diomedes, fighting. 


Enter HECTOR. 

Hect. What art thou, Greek? art thou 
for Hector’s match ? 

Art thou of blood and honour ? 


Bet 5. Scene 5. 


195 


Ther. No, no : I am a rascal; a scurvy- 
railing knave ; a very filthy rogue. 

Hect. I do believe thee. Live. [exit. 
Ther. God-a-mercy, that thou wilt be¬ 
lieve me; but a plague break thy neck for 
frighting me ! What’s become of the 
wenching rogues ? I think they have swal¬ 
lowed one another : I would laugh at that 
miracle : yet in a sort lechery eats itself. 
I ’ll seek them. [exit. 

Scene V. Another part of the field. 

Enter DIOMEDES and Servant. 

Dio. Go, go, my servant, take thou 
Troilus’ horse ; 

Present the fair steed to my lady Cressid : 
Fellow, commend my service to her beauty ; 
Tell her I have chastised the amorous 
Trojan, 

And am her knight by proof. 

Ser. I go, my lord. 

[exit. 

Enter AGAMEMNON. 

Agam. Renew, renew ! The fierce Po- 
lydamas 


196 


aroilus an£> Cresstfca. 


Hath beat down Menon : bastard Mar- 
garelon 

Hath Doreus prisoner, 

And stands colossus-wise, waving his beam, 
Upon the pashed corses of the kings 
Epistrophus and Cedius : Polyxenes is slain ; 
Amphimachus and Thoas deadly hurt; 
Patroclus ta’en or slain ; and Palamedes 
Sore hurt and bruised: the dreadful sagit- 
tary 

Appals our numbers : haste we, Diomed, 

To reinforcement, or we perish all. 


Enter NESTOR. 


Nest. Go, bear Patroclus’ body to Achil¬ 
les, 

And bid the snail-paced Ajax arm for 
shame. 

There is a thousand Hectors in the field : 

Now here he fights on Galathe his horse, 

And there lacks work ; anon he’s there 
afoot, 

And there they fly or die, like scaled skulls 

Before the belching whale ; then is he yon¬ 
der. 


Bet 5. Scene 5. 


197 


And there the strawy Greeks, ripe for his 
edge, 

Fall down before him, like the mower’s 
swath : 

Here, there and every where he leaves and 
takes, 

Dexterity so obeying appetite 

That what he will he does, and does so 
much 

That proof is call’d impossibility. 

Enter ULYSSES. 

Ulyss. O, courage, courage, princes! 
great Achilles 

Is arming, weeping, cursing, vowing ven¬ 
geance : 

Patroclus’ wounds have roused his drowsy 
blood, 

Together with his mangled Myrmidons, 

That noseless, liandless, hack’d and chipp’d, 
come to him, 

Crying on Hector. Ajax hath lost a friend, 

An d foams at mouth, and he is arm’d, and 
at it, 

Roaring for Troilus; who hath done to-day 


198 


GroUus anD GressiDa, 


Mad and fantastic execution, 

Engaging and redeeming of himself, 

With such a careless force and forceless 
care, 

As if that luck, in very spite of cunning, 
Bade him win all. 

Enter AJAX. 

Ajax. Troilus! thou coward Troilus ! 

[exit. 

Dio. Ay, there, there. 

Nest. So, so, we draw together. 

Enter ACHILLES. 

Achil. Where is this Hector ? 

Come, come, thou boy-queller, show thy 
face; 

Know what it is to meet Achilles angry : 
Hector ! where’s Hector ? I will none but 
Hector. [ exeunt . 

Scene VI. Another part of the field. 

Enter AJAX. 

Ajax. Troilus, thou coward Troilus, 
show thy head ! 












































200 


(Troilus anD CresslOa. 


Enter DIOMEDES. 

Dio. Troilus, I say ! where’s Troilus? 
Ajax. What wouldst thou ? 

Dio. I would correct him. 

Ajax. Were I the general, thou shouldst 
have my office 

Ere that correction. Troilus, I say I what, 
Troilus ! 


Enter TROILUS. 

Tro. O traitor Diomed ! Turn thy false 
face, thou traitor, 

And pay thy life thou owest me for my 
horse. 

Dio. Ha, art thou there ? 

Ajax. I ’ll fight with him alone : stand, 
Diomed. 

Dio. He is my prize; I will not look 
upon. 

Tro. Come both, you cogging Greeks; 
have at you both ! [ exeunt , jighting. 

Enter HECTOR. 

Hect. Yea, Troilus? O, well fought, my 
youngest brother! 

































202 


Groilus anD GresslOa, 


Enter ACHILLES. 

Achil. Now do I see thee ; ha ! have at 
thee, Hector 1 
Hect. Pause, if thou wilt. 

Achil. I do disdain thy courtesy, proud 
Trojan: 

Be happy that my arms are out of use : 

My rest and negligence befriends thee now, 
But thou anon shalt hear of me again ; 

Till when, go seek thy fortune. [exit. 

Hect. Fare thee well: 

I would have been much more a fresher 
man, 

Had I expected thee. 

Re-enter TROILUS. 

How now, my brother! 
Tro. Ajax hath ta’en iEneas : shall it be? 
No, by the flame of yonder glorious heaven, 
He shall not carry him ; I ’ll be ta’en too, 
Or bring him off. Fate, hear me what I say! 
I reck not though I end my life to-day. 

[exit. 

Enter one in sumptuous armour. 

Hect. Stand, stand, thou Greek; thou 
art a goodly mark. 


Bet 5. Scene 7, 


203 


No ? wilt thou not ? I like thy armour well; 
I’ll frush it, and unlock the rivets all, 

But I’ll be master of it. Wilt thou not, 
beast, abide ? 

Why then, fly on, I ’ll hunt thee for thy hide. 

[ exeunt . 

Scene VII. Another part of the field. 

Enter ACHILLES^ with. Myrmidons. 

Achil. Come here about me, you my 
Myrmidons; 

Mark what I say. Attend me where I wheel: 
Strike not a stroke, but keep yourselves in 
breath: 

And when I have the bloody Hector found, 
Empale him with your weapons round 
about; 

In fellest manner execute your aims. 

Follow me, sirs, and my proceedings eye : 

It is decreed Hector the great must die. 

[exeunt. 

Enter MENELA US and PA RIS , fighting : then 
THERSITES. 

Ther. The cuckold and the cuckold- 
jnaker are at it. Now, bull! now, dog! 


204 


Grotlus and Gresstoa, 


’loo, Paris, ’loo! now my double-henned 
sparrow ! ’loo, Paris, ’loo ! The bull has the 
game : ware horns, ho ! 

[exeunt Paris and Menelaus. 

Enter MARGARELON. 

Mar. Turn, slave, and fight. 

Tlier. What art thou ? 

Mar. A bastard son of Priam’s. 

Ther. I am a bastard too ; I love bastards: 
I am a bastard begot, bastard instructed, 
bastard in mind, bastard in valour, in every 
thing illegitimate. One bear will not bite 
another, and wherefore should one bastard ? 
Take heed, the quarrel’s most ominous to 
us : if the son of a whore fight for a whore, 
he tempts judgement: farewell, bastard. 

[exit. 

Mar. The devil take thee, coward ! [exit. 
Scene YIII. Another part of the field. 

Enter HECTOR. 

Hect. Most putrefied core, so fair with¬ 
out, 

Thy goodly armour thus hath cost thy life, 


Bet 5. Scene 8 . 


205 


Now is my day’s work done ; I ’ll take good 
breath : 

Rest, sword ; thou hast thy fill of blood and 
death. 

[Pw£s off his helmet and hangs his shield 

behind him. 

Enter A CH1LLES and Myrmidons. 

Achil. Look, Hector, how the sun begins 
to set; 

How ugly night comes breathing at his 
heels : 

Even with the vail and darking of the sun, 

To close the day up, Hector’s life is done. 

Hect. I am unarm’d ; forgo this vantage, 
Greek. 

Achil. Strike, fellows, strike ; this is the 
man I seek. [ Hector falls. 

So, Ilion, fall thou next! now, Troy, sink 
down ! 

Here lies thy heart, thy sinews, and thy 
bone. 

On, Myrmidons ; and cry you all amain, 

‘ Achilles hath the mighty Hector slain.’ 

[A retreat sounded. 

Hark ! a retire upon our Grecian part. 


206 


Grotlus anO GresmDa. 


Myr. The Trojan trumpets sound the 
like, my lord. 

Achil. The dragon wing of night o’er- 
spreads the earth, 

And stickler-like the armies separates. 

My lialf-supp’d sword that frankly would 
have fed, 

Pleased with this dainty bait, thus goes to 
bed. [Sheathes his sword. 

Come, tie his body to my horse’s tail; 

Along the field I will the Trojan trail. 

[exeunt. A retreat sounded. 

Scene IX. Another part of the field. 

Enter A GAMEMNON, AJAX, MEN EL A US, NES- 

TOR, DIOMEDES, and the rest, marching. Shouts 

within. 

Agam. Hark ! hark ! what shout is that? 

Nest. Peace, drums! 

[within] ‘ Achilles ! Achilles ! Hector’s 
slain ! Achilles ! ’ 

Dio. The bruit is, Hector’s slain, and by 
Achilles. 

Ajax. If it be so, yet bragless let it be ; 

Great Hector was a man as good as he. 

























208 


ftroilus an& Greset&a. 


Again. March patiently along : let one 
be sent 

To pray Achilles see us at our tent. 

If in his death the gods have us befriended, 

Great Troy is ours, and our sharp wars are 
ended. [exeunt, marching. 

Scene X. Another part of the field. 

Enter AENEAS, PARIS, AN TENOR, and 
DEIPHOBUS. 

uTJne. Stand, ho ! yet are we masters of 
the field: 

Never go home; here starve we out the 
night. 


Enter TROILUS. 

Tro. Hector is slain. 

All. Hector ! The gods forbid ! 

Tro. He’s dead ; and at the murderer’s 
horse’s tail 

In beastly sort dragg’d through the shame¬ 
ful field. 

Frown on, you heavens, effect your rage 
with speed! 


Bet 5. Scene 10. 


209 


Sit, gods, upon your thrones, and smile at 
Troy! 

I say, at once let your brief plagues be 
mercy, 

And linger not our sure destructions on ! 

JEne. My lord, you do discomfort all the 
host. 

Tro. You understand me not that tell 
me so : 

I do not speak of flight, of fear, of death, 

But dare all imminence that gods and men 

Address their dangers in. Hector is gone : 

Who shall tell Priam so, or Hecuba ? 

Let him that will a screech-owl aye be 
call’d, 

Go in to Troy, and say there ‘Hector’s 
dead: ’ 

There is a word will Priam turn to stone, 

Make wells and Niobes of the maids and 
wives, 

Cold statues of the youth, and, in a word, 

Scare Troy out of itself. But march away : 

Hector is dead ; there is no more to say. 

Stay yet. You vile abominable tents, 

Thus proudly pight upon our Phrygian 
plains, 

14 


210 


GroUue anfc Cresstfca. 


Let Titan rise as early as he dare, 

I’ll through and through you! and, thou 
great-sized coward, } 

No space of earth shall sunder our two 
hates : 

I’ll haunt thee like a wicked conscience 
still, 

That mouldeth goblins swift as frenzy’s 
thoughts. 

Strike a free march to Troy ! with comfort 
go: 

Hope of revenge shall hide our inward woe. 

[exeunt JEneas and Trojans. 

As TROILUS is going out, enter, from, the other side, 
PANDARUS . 

Pan. But hear you, hear you ! 

Tro. Hence, broker-lackey ! ignomy and 
shame 

Pursue thy life, and live aye with thy name ! 

[exit. 

Pan. A goodly medicine for my aching 
bones! 

O world ! world ! world ! thus is the poor 

agent despised! O traitors and bawds, how 

earnestly are you set a-work, and how ill 


Bet 5. Scene 10, 


211 


requited ! why should our endeavour be so 
loved and the performance so loathed ? what 
verse for it ? what instance for it ? Let me 
see: 

Full merrily the humble-bee doth sing, 

Till he hath lost his honey and his sting; 

And being once subdued in armed tail, 

Sweet honey and sweet notes together fail. 

Good traders in the flesh, set this in your 
painted cloths: 

As many as be here of Pandar’s hall, 

Your eyes, half out, weep out at Pandar’s 
fall; 

Or if you cannot weep, yet give some 
groans, 

Though not for me, yet for your aching 
bones. 

Brethren and sisters of the hold-door 
trade, 

Some two months hence my will shall 
here be made : 

It should be now, but that my fear is this, 

Some galled goose of Winchester would 
hiss : 

Till then I ’ll sweat and seek about for 
eases, 

And at that time bequeath you my dis¬ 
eases. [exit. 






































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